


Echoes of home, two tiers below

by lemonpika



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Fuckbuddies, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Self-Destruction, Slow Burn, Succession Contest Arc (Hunter X Hunter), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 124,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25901677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonpika/pseuds/lemonpika
Summary: Kurapika, barely surviving the Succession War, finds it difficult to relax or even breathe within the 14th Prince’s quarters, where blood has spilled and perils rumble just beyond the door. Fortunately, somewhere in the medical ward, two tiers below him on this ship seemingly heading straight to hell, is that rare person who can evoke echoes of what it feels like to have a home.
Relationships: Hisoka & Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter), Hisoka/Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter), Kurapika & Leorio Paladiknight, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight, Leorio Paladiknight & Cheadle Yorkshire, Leorio Paladiknight/Cheadle Yorkshire
Comments: 609
Kudos: 230





	1. Physiological overreaction

**Author's Note:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). A secondary pairing appears in later chapters.
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

The Black Whale powers forward over icy territorial waters. 

Sat on a sofa in the living room in the 14th Prince’s quarters, Kurapika writes a report on the progress of the Succession War to send to Mizaistom, member of the Zodiacs with the code name “Ox.”

> _Now that we’ve hit the two-week mark, we have a week to go before the ship docks at the New Continent._
> 
> _I want to say, of course, that 14th Prince Woble will emerge victorious, but at this juncture I cannot say anything with complete confidence. The situation grows more and more critical as we barrel toward the inevitable conclusion of this bloody battle for the Kakin Empire’s throne. There can only be one survivor, after all._
> 
> _The recently discovered death of 10th Prince Kacho, twin sister of 11th Prince Fugetsu, devastated everyone in her and her twin sister’s camps. With 8th Prince Salé-salé and 12th Prince Momoze also dead, eleven of fourteen princes remain in the running._
> 
> _The guardian spirit beasts, a parasitic type of Nen born of the Seed Urn ceremony, are beginning to make their moves on behalf of their respective princes. These Nen beasts are the unknown and unpredictable variables of this war. Queen Oito is growing anxious that the 14th Prince’s beast has yet to manifest, and I attempt to soothe her with empty promises of safety, security, and a happy ending._
> 
> _The good news is that the 14th Prince’s security force has been bolstered by the recent additions of the Hunters originally assigned to the now deceased 10th and 12th Princes. While as a general rule the employees of the younger princes are transferred to the employ of the elder princes, Melody and Hanzo conveyed a special request to be reassigned to 14th Prince Woble on account of the 14th Prince’s guards being substantially decimated at an early stage, leaving only Bill and myself._
> 
> _The elder princes acceded to this request, primarily because they still don’t consider the youngest prince, a mere infant girl, as a threat._
> 
> _3rd Prince Zhang Lei then recalled two of his personal guards, Sakata and Hashito, who had been temporarily purporting to aid Bill and me as we scrambled to recover from the many murders and assassinations that occurred within the 14th Prince’s quarters._
> 
> _Given these recent staffing changes, the following now reside in the 14th Prince’s quarters: 14th Prince Woble; 8th Queen Oito, the prince’s mother; Shimano, the queen’s employee; Melody, the Hunter formerly assigned to the 10th Prince; Hanzo, the Hunter formerly assigned to the 12th Prince; Bill, a Hunter affiliated with Beyond Netero; and I._
> 
> _I am thankful for the added strength of Melody and Hanzo. Hanzo was my batch mate at the 287th Hunter Exam, and Melody is a close associate from the Nostrade family, so I know them both well. With the periodic and ominous rumblings that warn of even greater perils to come, we will remain vigilant in the face of ever-evolving circumstances._
> 
> _I must confess, however, that I have personally found these past two weeks exceptionally difficult. For one reason or another, I’ve had to activate Emperor Time for several hours at once. While this experience has helped me gain crucial insights about the technical limitations of my own ability, I can’t say that the experiment has been altogether pleasant. Side effects include migraines, intense fatigue, and fainting episodes._
> 
> _I can’t remember whether I’ve mentioned this to you back when we were screening applicants together during the 289th Hunter Exam, but the most dangerous aspect of Emperor Time isn’t the exhaustion or illness that follows, but its impact on my lifespan. For every second that my brown eyes turn scarlet and Emperor Time is activated, I lose an hour of my life —_

Kurapika’s pen pauses over the paper before him. Is he perhaps revealing too much?

After a moment’s contemplation, he folds away the last two paragraphs in which he describes Emperor Time’s effects. Surely, Mizaistom doesn’t need to hear about that. No one cares. It’s nobody’s business but Kurapika’s own.

He tears away the extraneous paragraphs and inserts the rest of the page into an envelope, which he then signs with the code name “Rat.” Just as he tucks the envelope into an inner pocket of his blazer, Hanzo approaches.

“You busy?” Hanzo asks. “I gotta talk to you about something.”

Kurapika gets up from the sofa. “We can talk later. I have to head back to Queen Oito.”

“Nen training with the queen again? Already?” Hanzo is incredulous. “Come on, Kurapika. She’s exhausted. Don’t you think she’s had enough for the day?”

“The queen understands why this training is crucial. These defensive and protective techniques that I’m teaching her could mean the difference between life and death for both her and her baby.”

“Forget about Queen Oito and 14th Prince Woble for a minute. What about you?”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “What about me? What do you mean?”

“I mean stop being such a stubborn ass and check this out.”

Hanzo waves a sheet of paper in front of Kurapika’s face. Kurapika snatches it and looks.

“It’s a schedule of shifts for the guards,” Hanzo says. “Melody and Bill drew it up. See here, it’s time for your break.”

Kurapika stares at him. “What, you want me to take a break? _Now?_ ”

“Damn straight. Go lie down or something!”

“I was sitting down just now, wasn’t I? Isn’t that enough?”

“Listen, Kurapika. The queen needs her rest, otherwise she won’t be able to absorb anything you’re trying to teach her. And the same goes for you. How do you expect to protect the queen and the prince when you’re like this?”

Without warning, Hanzo flicks Kurapika’s forehead with a finger. Caught off guard, Kurapika teeters backward.

“See?” Hanzo says. “You’re practically dead on your feet! We need you in your best condition.”

“You startled me!”

Fuming, Kurapika’s eyes wander the room as he tries to formulate an excuse to check in with Queen Oito. 

He’s doing this for Queen Oito and Prince Woble, of course, but in a way he’s also doing this for himself. He prefers watching over the queen and the prince with his own eyes. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the others, but. . . .

Kurapika’s gaze falls on Bill, who is already staring back at him. Bill reddens then whips his head away to resume his conversation with Melody on the far side of the room.

Kurapika narrows his eyes. “Did Bill put you up to this?”

“He did,” Hanzo says. “But he has a point, you know.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Bill told me you recently overworked yourself and blacked out. Just dropped to the floor, out cold, then stayed unconscious for nine hours afterward.”

Kurapika hisses as this reminder. That day, he had activated Emperor Time for three consecutive hours, then collapsed from exhaustion before he could deactivate the ability. Twelve hours of Emperor Time in all, approximately five years of his life. . . .

Kurapika glares at Bill, furious that he talked about that disastrous incident to Hanzo. Bill, however, seems determined to avoid meeting his eyes again, so Kurapika exhales a long breath to calm himself. He doesn’t have the energy to kick up a fuss anyway. 

“Whatever,” Kurapika sighs. “I’m leaving then.”

Kurapika has just started heading for the exit, when Hanzo seizes his arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hanzo demands.

“Where else? Outside, obviously.”

“Like hell you are. It’s too dangerous out there! People are dropping like flies in those hallways! Just use one of the beds here. Sleep to your heart’s content.”

Hanzo grabs Kurapika’s shoulders and steers him away from the door, but Kurapika pulls away from his grip.

“There’s no way I can relax here,” Kurapika says. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Before Hanzo can say anything more, Kurapika hurries out the doorway and starts traversing the halls of the first tier.

Even without his mind consciously deciding on a destination, his body already subconsciously knows where it wants to go. Somewhere, two tiers below him on this ship seemingly heading straight to hell, is one of the rare people in the world who can evoke echoes of what it felt like to have a home.

Leorio is taking his break alone, lounging on a dusty couch in the dimly lit stockroom of the medical ward. Because there are cardboard boxes of supplies stacked everywhere, he takes care to flick the ash of his cigarette into a half empty can of coffee. 

Reaching the end of the page of an anatomy textbook balanced on his knees, he takes a deep drag then stretches back with a sigh. 

He wheels around his arms — first his right arm, then his left. His uniform, which distinguishes him as one of the medical staff assigned to the third tier of the ship, is a size too small. 

A few months before the Black Whale’s expected date of departure, he started getting hyped up, constantly lifting weights as he studied. Now, his biceps strain against the sleeves of his uniform. Should he ask Cheadle whether there are any spares lying around somewhere?

Even so, he can’t help but smile down at the red crosses marking his sleeves.

_Watch me from up there, Pietro. I’ll make you proud. I’m on my way now. I’m far down the road to achieving my dream. I may have lost you, but I won’t lose anyone to poverty again. I’ll save all the lives that I can._

These thoughts are cut short when a member of the medical staff pops his head into the stockroom. He addresses Leorio as Mr. Boar.

“It’s Leorio! Just call me Leorio! What’s up?”

The staff member says that Leorio has a visitor, one of his fellow Zodiacs.

Another Zodiac? Isn’t it enough that Cheadle the Dog and Gel the Snake are working Leorio to the bone? “Send them in,” Leorio grumbles. “Whoever it is, I can talk to them here.” 

As the staff member slips out of the room, Leorio trains his eyes on his textbook and sulks. He might devote 110% of his efforts during his shifts, but must he be pestered during his breaks too?

A familiar voice floats toward him. “The uniform’s looking good on you, Leorio.”

Leorio jerks up his head, his face instantly splitting into the widest and goofiest grin possible. There he is — Kurapika, one of his best friends in the entire universe. Kurapika stands there in a midnight blue suit, blond hair messier than usual, a slight smile on his face.

“Kurapika! What are you doing here?”

Kurapika holds up an envelope. “Does Mizaistom ever drop by? Mind passing this message to him?”

Then why is Kurapika visiting the medical ward, not the political ward, where Mizaistom is assigned? Both wards are even found in the same tier of the ship, located practically beside each other.

Kurapika squints down at Leorio. “Since when do you smoke? Shouldn’t medical students, of all people, know the adverse effects of nicotine addiction?”

As if to prove Kurapika’s point, Leorio starts coughing. “I know, I know. It’s a bad habit. The worst. I’m trying to quit, I swear!”

“Look at all the boxes in this room. Are you _trying_ to start a fire?”

“Hey, in my defense, I rarely do this. Honest! It’s only when I’m under loads of stress, like right now.”

Kurapika plops down beside Leorio on the couch. He leans close to insert the envelope between two random pages of the anatomy textbook, then looks up to survey Leorio’s face.

“What are you stressing about?” Kurapika asks seriously.

Now that Kurapika is sitting so close, Leorio notices the dark shadows under his eyes.

“What am _I_ stressing about? The better question is what are _you_ stressing about! Man, you look terrible. Like a red-eyed zombie.”

Kurapika leans away. “Sorry for subjecting you to a close-up of my terrible face, _Mr. Leorio._ This zombie simply needs a nap, then he’ll be right as rain.” 

Kurapika closes his eyes and scoots down so that he can rest his head on the back of the couch.

Leorio watches him for a moment, then decides to speak up. “That position looks way too uncomfortable. You’ll wake with a cramp. Rest your head on my shoulder, come on.”

Eyes still closed, Kurapika slides sideward until his head bumps against the crook of Leorio’s neck. As his soft hair brushes against Leorio’s skin, the breath catches suddenly in Leorio’s throat.

“How is this position any better?” Kurapika complains. “You’re hard!”

Leorio’s face immediately heats up. He stares down at his own crotch. _Is_ he hard?

“Have you been working out?” Kurapika asks.

Oh, Kurapika wasn’t talking about _that_. 

Leorio struggles to get his mind out of the gutter so that he can stammer out a response to Kurapika’s question. “Ah, um. A bit, yeah. Can you feel my biceps, my pecs —”

“Unfortunately, yes, as I’m now using your oh-so-firm muscles as my pillow. Damn, you seriously stink of smoke.”

“Should I put out my cigarette?”

“No, it’s tolerable,” Kurapika says. “As you know, I preside over a mafia family as my day job. I’ve grown accustomed to everyone smoking endlessly around me.”

“Really? You should tell your underlings to stop, the secondhand smoke is worse —”

“Can you please be quiet? I came here to rest, not converse.”

“Why even come here then?” Leorio demands. “You know I have a big mouth!”

“Hmm. I’m not sure. But I feel like . . . up there, it’s difficult to breathe. Down here with you, it’s not difficult at all. Smoke or no.”

Touched by the unexpected sweetness of these words, Leorio is stunned into silence. He flips through a few pages of his textbook, only barely registering what he’s supposed to be reading. 

Maybe he shouldn’t keep subjecting Kurapika to secondhand smoke like this. He stops pretending to study and dunks his cigarette into his canned coffee. 

He looks down at Kurapika, who is breathing slowly and steadily against his shoulder, already fast asleep.

“You were that tired, huh?” Leorio murmurs. “You’re always overdoing things, Kurapika. Even when you know you shouldn’t.”

He reaches out to gently brush Kurapika’s bangs away from his eyes, when Kurapika suddenly makes a soft groaning noise at the contact. 

Startled by the sound, Leorio stops moving and watches to see whether Kurapika has woken up, but his friend doesn’t move or make any further sound.

Kurapika continues to inhale and exhale warm breath against the sensitive flesh of Leorio’s neck. Leorio is now hyper-aware of it — the intimacy of it, the intensity of it. . . .

To his infinite horror, he can feel himself stiffening down there. A goddamn boner! Now, of all possible times! 

Far from getting his mind out of the gutter, Leorio’s entire being is now trapped in it.

He flips feverishly through the pages of his textbook to find something decidedly unsexy to help him deflate his boner. Of course, he lands right on a full-color spread describing the physiology of genitalia, comparing flaccid to erect penises.

This isn’t helping!

Why, oh why did Kurapika have to make such a sexy sound out of nowhere? Why does Kurapika have to feel so soft and warm and small against his shoulder?

Leorio’s boner is still rock-hard. Once his break ends, he won’t get the chance to jack off in peace. He needs to get himself off now. The circumstances are far from ideal, but does he even have a choice? 

He can’t nurse anyone back to health if he’s too busy nursing his own blue balls, right?

Holding his breath, he very carefully lowers his boxers. His erection springs out, stiff as a rod. 

He prays for all the angels in heaven to strum their harps in soothing harmony, anything to ensure that Kurapika stays fast asleep. He then starts to stroke himself with an excruciating slowness. 

He begs himself to hurry up and come, but minutes pass with no such luck. 

He glances down at Kurapika just to verify whether he’s still asleep, and —

 _No._ Kurapika is _not asleep_. Kurapika is wide awake and _staring right at him_.

Leorio freezes, his mind going blank.

After an agonizing moment of silence, Kurapika says, “Why did you stop? Did you want me to help?”

What? What did he just say?

Kurapika reaches down and wraps his slender fingers over Leorio’s rough hand. He then assists Leorio in moving his hand up and down, up and down his cock.

“Mm. Wait.” Kurapika withdraws his hand to stick his fingers into his mouth before getting back to it. “There. Do you like it slick?”

Is this a dream? Even for a dream, isn’t this way too much?

Finally managing to break free from his trance-like state, Leorio pulls his hand away from Kurapika’s in utter embarrassment. 

Undeterred, however, Kurapika continues to pump Leorio with his own fingers.

Leorio should stop Kurapika. He should, but he doesn’t want to. Kurapika’s skillful motions feel so unbelievably good that Leorio physically can’t bring himself to end what’s happening.

Leorio doesn’t last long, coming violently all over Kurapika’s fingers. 

He sinks back against the couch, the force of his orgasm sapping all his energy. In a daze, he watches as Kurapika pulls a handkerchief from his trousers pocket to methodically clean his own hand.

Without a word or a backward glance, Kurapika suddenly stands up and escapes from the room in about two seconds. 

Panicking, Leorio leaps up to follow him. Leorio is by the door when he has the presence of mind to stop. He can’t leave the room like this, can he? Dick still poking proudly out of his pants, traces of cum on his thighs and on the couch. 

He pauses to rearrange himself and to wipe off any incriminating evidence from the room, then hurries out the doorway.

By the time he stumbles out of the stockroom and into the hallway beyond the medical ward, Kurapika is long gone.


	2. Uneven rhythms, soothing sounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). A secondary pairing appears in later chapters.
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

14th Prince Woble gurgles happily as Melody bounces her on her knee. When the baby is beaming up at Melody like this, her eyes sparkling like the starriest of skies, Melody can almost forget about the copious blood that has been shed in the hallways of the first tier of the ship, as well as inside the 14th Prince’s own quarters.

Bill comes out from Queen Oito’s bedroom, and Melody catches a glimpse of Kurapika standing over where the queen sits on her bed. Kurapika’s hands are resting on her shoulders as she hyperventilates, sweat streaming down her face.

Bill snaps the bedroom door shut behind him and walks over to sit next to Melody on the living room sofa. He leans down to croon at Prince Woble, who only stares up at his creased face with a dumbfounded expression. Bill straightens up, chuckling. 

“The queen really likes you, huh?” he says to Melody. “You and Shimano are the only ones she trusts with taking care of the prince when she’s busy training with Kurapika.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m a woman?” Melody muses.

“Or maybe it’s because you radiate a trustworthy aura.”

“My, I’m flattered. So how’s the queen holding up? She looks like she’s having a difficult time.”

“Yeah,” Bill says. “The concentration that learning Nen techniques requires doesn’t come easy to her. Since Kurapika seems naturally proficient with Nen, he has to make an effort to adjust to her pace. But she’s trying her best. She seems determined to impress him.”

“I see.” Melody smiles gently. “I suppose her heart really isn’t lying.”

“Her heart? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve heard about my ability from Kurapika, I presume?”

“He says you have a super sense of hearing?” Bill says.

“Yes, I can hear heartbeats, among other nearly inaudible sounds. I can pick up on what people are feeling, and by extension, guess what they’re thinking. And the way Queen Oito’s heart beats when she’s around Kurapika, I’ve heard that uneven rhythm before, many times.”

Bill stares. “Wait, are you saying that the queen is in love with Kurapika or something?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but it does appear to be headed in that direction.”

Bill shakes his head in wonder. “Man, that guy can really do everything well, huh? Pin down his enemies, fast-track the Nen training of a bunch of randos from opposing camps, force the war into a stalemate, steal abilities . . . and steal hearts too, apparently?”

“Rather than saying Kurapika does everything well, I’d say it’s more like he tries to do everything by himself. I mean, why are you here with me right now? Why aren’t you in there, assisting with Queen Oito’s training?”

“Kurapika said he could handle it on his own,” Bill tells her.

“See what I mean?”

Bill starts, as if something occurs to him. “You know what? Maybe he already knows how the queen feels about him. Maybe he thinks she’ll listen better and learn faster if he’s the one teaching her.”

“You think so? Wouldn’t that be much too manipulative?”

“What, you don’t believe Kurapika is capable of that? From what I’ve seen these last two weeks, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Melody seems to think about this for a second. She doesn’t answer.

“I’m curious now, though,” Bill says. “Does Kurapika have a girlfriend? A lover?”

“Who knows. We may work together, but he’s not one to talk about his personal life unprompted. But I do know that he has other priorities. I doubt he has either the time or the inclination for frivolous things like romance.”

“Yeah, he seems way too uptight for love.”

“Kurapika has had to fend off numerous advances though. He’s surprisingly popular where we work.”

“Really?” Bill asks. “But isn’t Kurapika a mafia boss or something? He’s surprisingly popular . . . with the _mafia?_ ”

“Indeed. I can barely count the number of times I’ve noticed one of his underlings, who are all male, developing romantic or sexual feelings for him. Believe it or not, Kurapika is the type who’s attractive to men.”

“Actually, I can absolutely believe that.”

“When it kept happening, he asked me to report in advance if I was detecting any uneven rhythms. More often than not, those types of heartbeats would develop into full-blown crushes.”

“Was it such a regular occurrence?” Bill asks. “How many times did this happen?”

Melody begins to count with her fingers, but gives up almost right away. “Fifty, I suppose? This is just a rough estimate.”

“Fifty damn times?! Did it bother him, being pursued by so many men?”

“It did, but not because he’s homophobic or anything foolish like that. Their feelings tended to get in the way of their work responsibilities. They’d start to prioritize his safety over the mission at hand. He began to find it troublesome, so he’d pull them away for a private chat. After that, they’d stop showing up for work.”

“I guess I can understand why he’d fire them, but still. Seems harsh.”

“What seems harsh?” says another voice.

Bill gasps as, without warning, a hand slaps against his back. Hanzo is grinning, obviously delighted with Bill’s shock at his sudden appearance.

“Yo!” Hanzo says. “Did you two miss me while I was on break?”

“You’re very light on your feet, aren’t you?” Melody says. “I’m impressed.”

Smug, Hanzo crosses his arms over his chest. “We ninjas pride ourselves on our stealth.”

“You’re almost as quiet as Killua,” Melody tells him. “His assassin’s tread is impeccable.”

Hanzo jerks backward in amazement. “Eh?! That brat can beat me at being sneaky?”

Just then, Kurapika emerges from the bedroom, and the other three turn toward him.

“Queen Oito has made a great deal of progress today,” Kurapika tells them. “I’ve therefore persuaded her to retire earlier than usual for the night.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Bill says.

“Melody, will you please take Prince Woble to the queen?” Kurapika says.

As Melody heads for the bedroom with the prince, Hanzo accosts Kurapika. “Listen to this! Melody just said that Killua has even quieter footsteps than I do! And I’m a ninja! Imagine that! The nerve of that brat!”

“Hanzo, the queen is resting now,” Kurapika says. “Keep your voice down.”

“Who’s Killua?” Bill asks.

“He’s my friend,” Kurapika tells him.

“Oh!” Hanzo seems to remember something. “How’s Gon, by the way? Those two brats were always attached at the hip.”

“Who’s Gon?” Bill asks, struggling to keep up with these unknown characters.

“My other friend,” Kurapika says.

Melody returns to the living room. “Speaking of your friends, Kurapika, how is Leorio doing? I haven’t seen him at all since the ship set sail. Have you?”

Kurapika looks down at his hands — the fingers of his left hand fiddling with the chains on his right hand — and says nothing.

“Who’s Leorio?” Bill asks, utterly lost.

“A dirty old geezer trapped in the body of a hormonal young adult,” Hanzo grunts.

“My, what an uncharitable description of him,” Melody says with an amused smile.

Hanzo snorts. “Am I wrong though?”

“Perhaps not,” Melody says. “You know him better than I do, I’m sure. I maintain, however, that Leorio has one of my favorite heartbeats that I’ve ever heard.”

Kurapika stops playing with his chains and looks up at Melody. “You never told me that.”

“I didn’t? Well, it’s true.” Melody closes her eyes, as if trying to recall the rhythm. “Leorio’s heartbeat is soft, warm, and uplifting. The soothing sort of sound you want to fall asleep to.”

Kurapika opens his mouth as if to respond to this, then appears to change his mind. Instead, he flicks his wrist to glance down at his watch.

“It’s time for my break,” he says. “I’m heading out.”

Cheadle is updating the central hospital logbook for the night. As she trails a finger down a completed page of entries, her eyes wander, finally landing on Leorio.

Leorio is standing by the front counter of the medical ward, his body stiff and alert despite the current lack of patients or visitors. In contrast to his rigid posture, there’s a glazed expression on his face. His mind seems a million miles away.

“Just how long has Leorio been like this?” Cheadle asks Gel, who is typing on a personal computer beside her.

“Pretty much the whole day,” Gel responds. “I think he and the Rat got into a fight last night. He still seems hung up about it.”

“A rat? What rat?”

“I mean Kurapika,” Gel says. “They were talking alone in the stockroom when Kurapika stormed out and Leorio gave chase.”

“Wait, Kurapika was _here?_ Mizai and I were just talking about him.”

“Oh yeah, Kurapika came to visit shortly after you left for the political ward to see Mizai. If you and Mizai had just decided to meet here in the medical ward instead, we could’ve had a mini Zodiacs meeting, you know, with the Dog, Snake, Ox, Boar, and Rat all present.”

“Hmm.”

Cheadle tries to call Leorio over. He doesn’t respond, so she snaps her fingers in front of his face just to get his attention.

Leorio starts. “What’s up, Cheadle? Need my help with something? What can I do?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. The influx of patients is slow tonight.”

“Oh. Yeah, it is, huh?”

“Gel said Kurapika came to see you yesterday?” Cheadle inquires. “I hear he’s caught right in the crossfire of the Kakin royal family’s Succession War. How is your friend holding up?”

“Kurapika is, um, he’s. . . .” Leorio trails off. “You know what? I actually have no freaking idea what Kurapika is doing up there in the first tier.”

“Really? What did you even talk about?”

“Ah! I almost forgot!” Leorio whips out a rumpled envelope from his pants pocket. “Kurapika left this message for Mizaistom last night.”

Cheadle considers the envelope for a few seconds, then holds out her palm.

“Give it here. As Chairperson of the Hunter Association, messages left for the members of the Zodiac Twelve will necessarily be transmitted to me.”

Leorio hesitates, then hands it over.

Cheadle opens the envelope, takes out the message, and unfolds it. Leorio and Gel silently watch her as she reads.

Cheadle tuts. “I see. This sounds complicated and difficult.”

“Eh? What does?” Without thinking, Leorio snatches the message from Cheadle’s hand so that he can read it too.

Gel throws Cheadle a scandalized look, but when Cheadle doesn’t protest, Gel slinks over and stands on tiptoes to read Kurapika’s message over Leorio’s shoulder.

Leorio mutters constantly to himself as he reads. “Wait, how many princes are there? Some of the princes _died?_ And many of the guards died too? Why is everyone dying up there?! All this fuss for some musty old throne? This is ridiculous! It’s way too extreme! Kurapika — the Hunters shouldn’t be getting involved in this ungodly mess!”

“I certainly agree with you on that last point,” Cheadle chimes in. “I worry about our Hunters as well. However, all the Hunters who applied as guards in the first tier knew what they were signing up for, Kurapika included.”

“Still! It’s too dangerous! What if Kurapika gets hurt, and there’s no doctor —”

The front door to the medical ward opens, but it’s not a patient who enters. 

Kurapika is taken aback by the way Leorio, Cheadle, and Gel all stare at him. He hesitates, but decides to approach the front counter anyway.

“Hello, Chairman. Hello —” Kurapika pauses. There’s an awkward silence as it quickly becomes apparent to everyone that he can’t remember Gel’s name.

“Well, if it isn’t the Rat again,” Gel says, a poisonous smile on her lips. “Guess what we’ve all been reading together.”

Gel gestures toward the envelope that Cheadle is holding, the one signed with his code name.

Realization dawns on Kurapika. He rounds on Leorio, who is still holding the message for Mizaistom in his own hands. “Hey! I told you to give that to Mizaistom! Why are you letting everyone read it?!”

In response, Leorio ducks under the counter and grabs Kurapika by the elbow. Even as Kurapika glares daggers up at him, Leorio starts hauling him away to the privacy of the stockroom.

“Cheadle, I’m taking my break now, okay?” Leorio says, sparing her a backward glance. “While the influx of patients is slow and all?”

Leorio slams the door shut behind them, then whirls around to face Kurapika. 

“Look, I’m sorry I passed your message to Cheadle. I thought it was okay because Cheadle and Mizaistom are from the same faction of the Zodiacs. But if it was confidential, I’m really sorry. . . .”

Folding his arms over his chest, Kurapika leans against a stack of cardboard boxes and scowls at the floor.

“It wasn’t confidential, really,” Kurapika admits. “Not confidential, but _highly_ embarrassing. Shit, I can still remember all the melodramatic things I wrote. If it sounded like I was whining to Mizaistom. . . .”

Leorio’s eyes widen at this. “ _Whining?_ Was that why you wrote it? To _whine_ to Mizaistom?”

“Go ahead and laugh. I know you want to.”

Leorio blows out a frustrated sigh. “Why would I laugh? That’s the last thing I feel like doing! Damn it, I’m pissed now!”

“ _You’re_ the one who’s pissed?”

“Super pissed! Kurapika, if you wanted to whine to somebody, why not me? Screw Mizaistom, I’m your _friend_. You were right here. You could have ranted. I would have listened. Instead, I never know anything you’re doing! I can’t believe I have to hear about it from a message addressed to somebody else. . . .”

Kurapika finally looks Leorio in the eye, but says nothing.

“Let me guess,” Leorio continues, throwing up his hands. “You don’t think I’d understand your problems? Because I’m a Rookie Hunter and not a big deal like Double-Star Crime Hunter Mizaistom and the rest of you?”

“Hey, I never thought that,” Kurapika protests. “We passed the Hunter Exam in the same year — how can I ever consider myself superior to you? I just don’t see the point in ranting to you about things I can’t change or choose, that’s all. When we’re together, I just want to forget about everything else.”

Leorio opens his mouth to retort, but Kurapika suddenly steps forward. He leans in, thumping his head against Leorio’s chest.

“God, Leorio. Why are you getting so worked up over this? Just calm down, okay? Relax.”

The moment Kurapika touches him, all the agitated thoughts racing around Leorio’s brain — all the words he wanted to say — just whistle out like kettle steam.

Why _is_ Leorio getting so worked up over this? Kurapika is here now. Kurapika is safe. Kurapika is okay. Kurapika —

All of a sudden, last night’s events, which took a backseat to his own bizarre outburst, come crashing back to the forefront of his brain — the way Kurapika expertly handled him, the way he exploded, dirtying those beautiful fingers. . . .

“Um, Kurapika, about last night —”

“Can you wait?” Kurapika asks. “Just for a moment?”

Leorio hesitates. “Wait? For what?”

“Don’t talk.”

They’re both quiet for a minute.

“She was right.” Kurapika’s voice is soft. “Mm. I can’t get enough of this.”

What’s that all about? Leorio is about to ask, when Kurapika suddenly looks up, his chin still pressed against Leorio’s chest. 

Trapped in the intensity of that gaze, Leorio can’t remember what he meant to say.

“Last night, did I make you feel good?” Kurapika asks.

“Do — do you even have to ask?” Leorio stammers. “Wasn’t it obvious, by the way that I, um. . . .”

“Then were you thinking about me today?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I definitely was.” Every minute, every goddamn _second_. . . .

“I was thinking too,” Kurapika drawls, “about all the things I want to do with you.”

_Gah!_ Kurapika’s sheer sexiness is blowing up Leorio’s brain!

“What — what do you want to do with me?” Leorio manages to blurt out.

Kurapika’s eyes flash red for just a fraction of a second, the blazing scarlet visible despite the black contacts he wears to conceal their color.

Kurapika steps back, then shoves Leorio away from him, hard.

With a yelp, Leorio tumbles backward, landing on the couch.


	3. Disgusting little secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). A secondary pairing appears in later chapters.
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Dreaming. Leorio must be dreaming. How else can he explain what’s happening right now?

Leorio leans back on the couch, groaning as Kurapika kneels before him, pleasuring him with his mouth. 

Kurapika is trying to push Leorio’s knees farther apart, but the pants and boxers tangled around Leorio’s ankles are getting in the way. In one fluid motion, Kurapika yanks them off and tosses them over his shoulder.

Kurapika spreads Leorio’s legs open, raking his fingernails enticingly over Leorio’s thighs. He starts to lower his lips over Leorio’s cock again, then suddenly pulls back to survey it.

Why is Kurapika looking at it like that? Is he only now registering the weirdness of this situation — giving his friend a blow job in a dusty stockroom as a literal war rages above both their heads? Has he changed his mind, after all?

“Hey, you’re staring too hard,” Leorio says, nervous now.

“Am I?” Kurapika brushes his hair back from his face and glances up. “Well, I like the way it looks, so of course I’m going to stare.”

Leorio’s face burns up. “You — you don’t have to like it or dislike it! It’s a penis! Just a penis! You have your own, so what’s the big deal?”

Kurapika smiles up at him, clearly amused. “I’m just complimenting you, so why are you acting so shy?”

Leorio grumbles. “It’s _because_ you’re complimenting me. . . . Do we really have to talk? Right now, when we’re in the middle of it?”

“Sorry about that. I’m just catching my breath. Ready?”

Kurapika dives down again. His mouth closes over the tip, softly sucking it, then continues sliding down until Leorio’s entire length is enveloped in his throat. He withdraws, then takes him in again to the hilt again, sucking harder now. 

Leorio melts against the couch, white-hot bliss seeping over every inch of his skin. 

Even as his head darts up and down, Kurapika watches Leorio steadily, appearing to revel in the moans that he’s wrenching from Leorio’s throat. 

Leorio quickly averts his gaze. Yeah, there’s no way he can last long if he’s looking at Kurapika looking at him like that.

Kurapika takes Leorio’s right hand, which is clenched over his lap, and places it over his own head. Leorio hesitates, then begins to tug at a fistful of Kurapika’s silky golden hair.

Kurapika seems to like that — his breathing quickens against Leorio’s groin — so Leorio tightens his hold. Seeing the excitement in Kurapika’s eyes, the expression there no longer amused or teasing, some crucial dam holding back the wildness in Leorio’s mind just cracks wide open.

Leorio pushes his hips forward on the couch. Keeping Kurapika’s head there by the grip on his hair, he fucks Kurapika in the mouth, grunting in pleasure every single time he plunges inside that wet warmth. After a particularly deep thrust, he finally reaches his climax, fully engulfed in Kurapika’s tight throat.

As his hardness breaks, so too does Leorio’s frenzied brain click back into full functionality. Horrified by his own actions, he pulls out and starts flailing his arms in a panic.

“Kurapika! Was I choking you? Can you breathe? Do you hate me now? What the hell was I thinking? I’m so sorry, I’m such a dickhead!”

Kurapika wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks up at him with a mild expression. “Why are you apologizing? You were only thinking about feeling good. I want you to feel good. I’m glad I could help.”

“Still! I was too selfish! I didn’t even warn you I was coming, so you had to swallow everything. . . .”

“Hey now, I _wanted_ to swallow. Why waste a single precious drop?” Kurapika smirks, his index finger running over his bottom lip, relishing the taste that lingers there.

Leorio leans down to pull him from the floor. “Come on, get up. I want to do it to you too.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t have to force yourself.” Kurapika stumbles to his feet without Leorio’s help, then turns away to reach for the blazer that he set aside earlier. 

“Who says I’m forcing myself? I want —”

“My break is about halfway over,” Kurapika says, glancing down at his watch. “Why don’t we just talk?”

Kurapika is pulling on his blazer now. Looks like he won’t change his mind. Sighing, Leorio retrieves his pants and underwear from the floor. 

Leorio’s hand twitches toward the pack of cigarettes in his pants pocket, but when Kurapika sinks down beside him on the couch, he resists. Instead, his nervous fingers root at the fluff poking out from the cracked fabric of the couch.

Kurapika rubs his eyes and yawns. “Talk to me, Leorio. If you don’t start talking now, I swear I’m going to fall asleep on you.”

“That’s a good thing! Here, lie on my lap.”

“And if you get a boner again? Are we going for a second round of face-fuckery tonight?”

“Hey!” Leorio protests. “It’s not like I can’t control myself!”

“Oh? _Can_ you control yourself around me?”

“Eh . . . probably not.”

“I’m just teasing you, Leorio. You don’t have to answer so seriously.” Kurapika props his elbow against the back of the couch and rests his cheek on his palm. “Hey, so what’s medical school like? Tell me all your stories.”

“Which one do you want to hear first? The exciting one about how I fell asleep in the library for the bajillionth time?”

“That does sound exciting. But first I want to hear the thrilling tales of the multitudes of women you’ve been stealing away to your dorm room, as the notorious campus Lothario.”

Leorio snorts. “Now you’re just asking for stories that don’t exist. Hey, can I ask you something instead? Something I’ve been thinking about?”

“Sure. Ask me anything.”

“Don’t be mad, okay?”

“Unless your question involves a certain revolting twelve-legged critter, I don’t imagine I would be mad.”

Leorio takes a deep breath, then just goes for it.

“I couldn’t help but notice . . . you’re surprisingly good with this stuff. Sex stuff, I mean.”

Kurapika waits for a follow-up, but doesn’t receive any. “That’s not a question.”

“Well, I guess my question is . . . why?”

Kurapika chuckles. “Was that seriously what you wanted to ask? Goodness, you were making such a production out of it. I was starting to feel a little apprehensive.”

“Just answer my question, jeez.”

Kurapika smiles indulgently at him. “Why is anyone good at anything? Practice makes perfect, right?”

“You’ve had a lot of practice, huh? How . . . how many?”

“How many partners or how many times?”

Leorio is startled by the matter-of-fact tone of Kurapika’s voice. “Um, both, I guess? Only if you want to talk about it, of course.”

Kurapika gazes into the middle distance, seemingly trying to remember. “Let’s see. Partners . . . I didn’t keep a running tally, but about . . . thirty, I suppose?”

Leorio chokes. “ _Thirty?_ You’re only nineteen years old!”

“Yeah . . . thirty sounds about right. Definitely no more than thirty-five. Okay, maybe forty, tops. There was a time when they kept on coming, one after the other. I lost track by that point.”

Leorio stares, his mouth agape, as the numbers keep racking up.

“As for how many times, I honestly have no idea. I can’t even give you an estimate. For quite a few of them, there were multiple instances, so it’s all hazy to me now.”

Leorio is still staring blankly, so Kurapika taps him on the leg with a fist.

“Earth to Leorio. How many for you? How many partners, how many times?”

Leorio immediately starts to sulk. “Not telling. You’ll laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? You should be the one laughing. You see me differently now, don’t you? You think I’m disgusting?”

“No way.”

“You’re just saying that.” An odd smile on his face, Kurapika leans close to examine Leorio’s expression. “Look at you, you can’t stand the sight of me. You’re actually gagging inside.”

“Who’s gagging?”

Kurapika surveys him for a few seconds, then leans away. “Fine. But you have to tell me how many. I just told you my disgusting little secret, after all. It’s only fair.”

Leorio heaves a sigh. “Just four for me, okay? Girls from medical school, one time each. I guess I disappointed them. None of them were up for a second round.”

Kurapika reaches out to rub Leorio’s shoulder. “I’m sure that can’t be true. There must have been other factors.”

“Easy for you to say. You, with your objectively good-looking face.”

“Hey, I like your face. And I’m ready to fight anyone who disagrees with me. Gorgeous face, gorgeous dick — those women are missing out, really. More for me.”

“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” Leorio asks.

“I’m really not.”

Looking contemplative, Kurapika moves his hand away from Leorio’s shoulder and rests it on the back of the couch. Leorio immediately misses it, wishing he could slide Kurapika’s hand back over his shoulder.

“I’ve never been with a woman,” Kurapika tells him. “I wonder what that’s like.”

“You’re gay then?”

“Who’s to say. I’ve never fallen for a woman, but then again I’ve never fallen for a man either. It just so happened that whenever an opportunity presented itself, it was a man who was involved.”

“Did you meet them in gay bars or places like that?” Leorio asks.

“Who even has the time for that? No, these guys were co-workers who were infatuated with me, for God knows what reason. They made it difficult so I had to terminate them, but I’d ask them if they wanted to fuck me as a goodbye gift. They always said yes, so there you go.”

“Wait, your partners were members of the mafia?”

“Most of them, yes,” Kurapika says. “Bodyguards, soldiers, enforcers . . . usually those sorts.”

“So muscular guys then? Bigger than me? That’s your type?”

“I don’t have a type. Like I said, they were willing, and I was curious. I wouldn’t let them touch me though.”

“What? You let them do you . . . but they couldn’t touch you?”

Kurapika nods. “I chained them down and had my way with them.”

“Chained them. . . .”

Leorio glances down at Kurapika’s right hand, but the chains, which Kurapika can Conjure with his Nen, aren’t there right now. In fact, now that Leorio is really thinking about it, Kurapika never keeps his chains on him when the two of them are alone.

“It wasn’t like I tortured those men or held them against their will,” Kurapika says. “The chains were simply a precondition for the sex. I didn’t let them top me or hold me — they’d have to fuck me from beneath me and be happy about it. I always made sure that they were 100% satiated, though. By the time it was over, they never had a reason to complain.”

The mental image of Kurapika riding bulky mafia dudes all wrapped up in chains . . . yeah, no wonder they had no reason to complain. Leorio won’t mind a taste of that himself.

“Hey, those guys that you slept with, were they bigger than I am?” Leorio asks.

“Is that what you’re hung up about?” 

Kurapika seems on the verge of laughing, but when Leorio just stares intently at him, he answers seriously. 

“Yes, Leorio, many of them were bigger than you. Don’t worry about it, okay? Your body isn’t my favorite thing about you.”

Kurapika presses his palm over Leorio’s heart, then looks up at him and smiles.

Leorio’s heartbeat stutters to a stop, then speeds forward with a vengeance. Can Kurapika feel that?

With his hand still resting on Leorio’s chest, Kurapika glances down, but he’s only checking his watch. “Ah, damn it. I have to go now, or else I’ll be late getting back.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Leorio says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Are you even allowed to leave the third tier?” Kurapika asks. “The guards of the ship are strict about crossing tiers, you know? The only reason I can do it so freely is because I have an endorsement from Mizaistom.”

“I mean I’ll walk with you until the guard post, the one by the stairs leading up to the second tier.”

“You don’t have to. Just get back to work. Patch those wounds, save those lives. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

Kurapika is just about to get up from the couch when Leorio grasps his arm, keeping him there.

“What is it, Leorio?”

There are so many things Leorio wants to say, but he doesn’t know where to begin. _Be careful, be safe, don’t die, don’t overdo it, don’t forget to rest, don’t forget to come back to me._ Which part should he say first?

Instead of attempting to sort through his chaotic thoughts, Leorio leans in for a kiss.

Just before their lips can touch, Kurapika slots a piece of paper between their mouths.

“My schedule,” Kurapika says, his gaze steady. “Line up your breaks with mine if you can.”

Kurapika gets up to leave then.

As he watches Kurapika disappear around the door, Leorio sees that Kurapika’s message for Mizaistom has fluttered to the floor. He goes over to pick it up, then just now notices something.

While the bottom edge of the sheet is straight, it’s clear that a portion of the page has been neatly torn away. Leorio runs his thumb over the torn edge, speculating.

Was there perhaps something that Kurapika wrote, which he later wanted to retract? Was he censoring himself, keeping a secret even from Mizaistom, his most trusted confidant?


	4. Ulterior motives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). A secondary pairing appears in later chapters.
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

With her long raven hair fanned out over silken pillows, Queen Oito sleeps peacefully.

Shimano, who sits on a rocking chair by the bed, cradles the fair-haired 14th Prince Woble by lamplight. Kurapika raises his hand in a silent greeting to her, and she bows her head in response.

Kurapika retreats from the queen’s bedroom and closes the door behind him, taking care not to make even the slightest sound.

He walks over to the sofa where Melody sits polishing her flute to ascertain whether there are any new developments to report.

“None whatsoever,” Melody tells him. “You could have stayed out longer for your break, you know. Taking into account the duration and apparent degree of difficulty of today’s training session, I’m almost certain that Queen Oito will sleep in until late next morning. Perhaps even until noontime?”

Kurapika folds his arms over his chest. “In other words, you’re trying to tell me in a roundabout way that I’m working the queen too hard.”

When Melody says nothing in reply to this, he continues talking. “Don’t worry, I’m already aware of this sentiment that you, Hanzo, and Bill all share. We can agree to disagree on this particular point. I’ll spare you the long-winded explanation of my reasoning, so why don’t you spare me the lecture in this instance.”

“You do realize that none of us are trying to lecture you?” Melody tells him. “Maybe it seems that way to you, but I assure you that this isn’t our intention. We’re only trying to help. We’re all on the same side, or have you already forgotten that?”

Kurapika pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. “You’re right. That was uncalled for. I sincerely apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kurapika. Are you perhaps upset about something?”

“Even if I am, I have no right to take it out on you.” He opens his eyes and smiles faintly down at her. “Sorry, Melody. Will you please excuse me for a moment?”

In the blessed privacy of the bathroom, Kurapika splashes water on his face. Glaring at the sink, he wills himself to calm down, but the aching discomfort between his legs only worsens.

Maybe he should just do it. Rub one out, get it over with.

“No.” He raises his head to reprimand his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “You promised never to do that again. Not while thinking about him.”

His fingers inch toward the buckle of his belt, threatening to defy his resolve. 

Perhaps he can just imagine someone else? A random man, a random face? He struggles to remember what they looked like, all those men chained down and growling like animals beneath him, but their nondescript features blend and blur in his mind’s eye.

Can he even think of anyone else while he still tastes Leorio in his mouth? The smoky, bitter flavor lingers on his tongue.

He bites his thumb, licking at the drop of blood that oozes out. Maybe this metallic tang will erase that potent taste.

Back in the living room, Kurapika sits rigidly on the sofa, a pillow positioned strategically over his lap.

Next to him, Melody is looking after Prince Woble while Shimano takes some time to rest. Melody stirs the primary-colored birds of the mobile above the prince’s stroller, then glances over at Kurapika’s hands clasped over the pillow.

“Why is your chained hand bleeding?” she asks.

“Paper cut.”

“Hmm.” Melody can hear that he’s lying, can’t she? “You couldn’t find a band-aid?”

Kurapika chooses to ignore this. “Listen, I’m going to close my eyes for a bit. Just tap me on the shoulder if something important is happening.”

“Why don’t you go to the employees’ bedroom and lie down?” Melody suggests.

“My break is already over. I’m not going to sleep. I just want to close my eyes so that I can think clearly.”

Prince Woble begins to fuss in her stroller, so Melody leans forward to soothe her.

With the baby’s intermittent cooing and crying as background noise, Kurapika closes his eyes and dives deep inside his own mind.

When Kurapika is thinking seriously in this manner, he likes to picture himself sharing a conversation with Pairo, his childhood friend and favorite person in the world, at least until his untimely death alongside the rest of the Kurta clan during the massacre by the Spiders. 

In his imagination, Pairo is the same age as he is — nineteen and bloodless and perfect. Pairo looks over at Kurapika with a gentle smile, his maroon eyes no longer clouded with a fading vision.

They sit together in a clearing in the forest, sunlight filtering green through the leaves overhead. Kurapika can tell Pairo anything under the sun, and Pairo will never hate him, no matter what. How can he now?

“Pairo . . . I’m worried about Leorio.”

“Why?” Pairo asks. “Isn’t Leorio one of the only good things in your life right now? Doesn’t he remind you of home?”

“Nothing and no one will ever feel like home again. Not the way you and Mother and Father and the clan were to me.”

“But Leorio, he comes close, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. Leorio, Gon, and Killua. I’m fortunate to have friends like them.” Kurapika smiles as he recalls spending a day with his young friends in the park, laughing as Killua smooshed Gon with a pie to the face.

“Then are you worried about losing your friends?” Pairo inquires. “About losing Leorio?”

Kurapika shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m worried about. Not right now, specifically. There’s something else that’s bothering me, but I’m afraid you’ll think I’m being petty.”

“Your feelings are your feelings, Kurapika. They’re not petty. They just are what they are.”

“Then . . . do you know about the perverted things I’ve been doing to Leorio?”

Pairo chuckles. “I saw, I saw! You were so daring! You’ve always been fearless, even as a child.”

Kurapika buries his face in his hands. “I’m so embarrassed I want to die.”

“Dying isn’t fun. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

When Kurapika refuses to lift his face from where he’s hiding it behind his hands, Pairo tugs at his arm. 

“You don’t need to feel ashamed about anything when you’re with me, Kurapika. So you made a move on the man, and now he’s whipped for you. What’s next?”

Kurapika finally lowers his hands from his face. “ _Whipped_ for me? I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

“How else would you describe it?” Pairo asks. “Leorio is always excited to see you! And Little Leorio is excited too!”

“Little Leorio?”

“Oh! _Big_ Leorio then?”

“Pairo . . . stop objectifying Leorio.”

“What? I’m only thinking the same things that you’re thinking! If I sound like I’m objectifying him, then doesn’t that mean —”

“Listen, Pairo. Leorio isn’t excited to see me. He’s excited for that _one thing_. And here I am, forcing my way into his schedule by dangling that _one thing_ in front of him.”

“One thing . . .?”

Kurapika takes a deep breath. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning, the first time I visited Leorio in the medical ward. Yes, he was happy to see me then. It had been a while, after all. Leorio and I had briefly reunited before the Black Whale’s departure, but even then, there was always a Zodiac Twelve meeting to attend, as well as various tasks to accomplish before the expedition. We didn’t have the time to just sit back and unwind.”

“But then you got the chance to bond with him in the medical ward, right?”

“I was asleep for half that time, but essentially yes. Actually, as I was heading to the medical ward, I was already in the process of formulating my plans. I had realized right away that, if I wanted to continue paying Leorio visits, I’d have to think of some plausible excuse.”

“Why do you need an excuse?” Pairo asks. “Aren’t the two of you friends?”

Kurapika sighs. “Friends or not, if I keep showing up there, he’s eventually going to get sick and tired of me, right? I know what Leorio is like. He might bitch and whine if he finds something troublesome, but if he genuinely cares about something, he will devote all his energy and enthusiasm into it. And that’s the way he feels about his medical and nursing duties. So it stands to reason that he’ll prefer to spend his precious break times free and unencumbered.”

“Do you feel like you’re bothering him whenever you visit him?” Pairo asks.   


“Yes, which is exactly why I’m doing what I’m doing. I want Leorio to see me as an exciting distraction, and not as I really am — a bothersome friend.”

“You’re my friend, and I’ve never once considered you bothersome, you know?”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “Well, you wouldn’t, would you? But from an unbiased perspective, my basic personality is just plain terrible. I’m too serious, too wound up, too guarded, too angry, too tired. In other words, I’m not a fun person to be around.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“No, I’m not,” Kurapika says. “I’ve lived with myself for nineteen years, so I know myself best. I’ve already long accepted that I’m neither a good nor likable person. And here’s the problem — because of my fundamentally selfish nature, I’m all the more drawn to people who exude that selfless kindness and compassion that I sorely lack.”

“Like Leorio, you mean?”

“Yes, Leorio is the most pure-hearted person that I know, and I keep wanting to see him, again and again and again. Sleeping beside him, soaking in his warmth, looking at his face, hearing his voice, just being around his orbit . . . I can’t get enough of it. It makes me feel better, just being by his side, so in a way I’m only looking to return the favor. And because I’m not a pleasant person by any means, I have to compensate in other ways.”

“So when you touch him. . . .” Pairo trails off.

“When I woke up beside him and witnessed him masturbating, I saw my opportunity to hook him in and make him want to be around me. And it worked. Now he’s more eager than ever to be alone with me, despicable as I am.”

“Do you mean that you do these things only to give him a reason to want to see you again? You don’t think he enjoys your company unless he believes there’s a chance he can stick it in?”

“That about sums it up, yes,” Kurapika says.

“Wow, Kurapika. For such an outwardly smart person, you sure can be so dense. Leorio isn’t that shallow, and you aren’t that worthless, you know?”

“I’m not calling Leorio shallow,” Kurapika protests. “I’m just speaking from experience. This past year, so many people tried to get close to me, and for what? There was always an ulterior motive.”

“An ulterior motive which you then exploited. You used them up, then tossed them aside.”

Kurapika shrugs. “I just gave them what they wanted, right?”

“You think that’s what they wanted from you? For some of them, maybe that’s true, but for _all_ of them? I doubt it. But more importantly, do you really think that sex is all that Leorio wants from you?”

“What else can he want from me? What else can I give him?”

“Okay, momentarily setting aside the question of what Leorio wants, what is it that _you_ really want from him? You’re giving me all these convoluted explanations for why you’re touching him, but can you honestly say that you wouldn’t _want_ to touch him, if you didn’t have these twisted ulterior motives to justify it to yourself?”

Kurapika gazes ahead, absently biting his lip. “Yes, it does make me feel good to make him feel good, I’ll admit. But in the grand scheme of things, I primarily do what I do in order to achieve my objective of securing alone time with him. That’s my priority.”

“Kurapika . . . aren’t you just making this unnecessarily complicated? If you both feel good when you’re around each other, then what’s the real issue here? Why don’t you just turn off your brain and give in to whatever you’re feeling?”

“You’re telling me to turn off my brain when this entire conversation is happening inside it right now?” Kurapika says, smiling sardonically. 

“I’m just saying, if you keep overanalyzing your own feelings and motivations like this, you might end up shutting out what really matters. You could end up hurting both Leorio and yourself.”

“I don’t care about hurting myself, but I definitely don’t want to hurt him. Should I just stop touching him and blurring the boundaries between us? Is that it?”

“You should stop lying to yourself for once.”

Kurapika opens his eyes.

He’s back in the 14th Prince’s quarters again. Gone are the glimmering green safety of the forest and the reassuring presence of Pairo beside him. Here, the tiles are tinged faintly red, no matter how much they’re scrubbed or disinfected.

“Is that what I’m doing, Pairo?” Kurapika murmurs to the floor. “Am I lying to myself?”

Sensing movement by the exit, Kurapika turns to see Melody, Hanzo, and Bill all gathered by the door. Kurapika throws the pillow he’s holding aside and gets up to join them.

Hanzo and Bill are both pressing their ears against the door, while Melody stands a short distance away, carrying the sleeping Prince Woble in her arms.

“What’s going on?” Kurapika asks quietly.

“Something big is going on outside,” Bill replies, also in a hushed voice. “We’re trying to listen.”

Kurapika moves to stand beside Melody. “Something big?” he mutters to her. “Not another rumbling?”

“I don’t think so,” she whispers. “It’s coming from somewhere in the second tier. Some sort of . . . chase, I believe?”

“It’s coming from the second tier but even Hanzo and Bill can hear it? It must be serious then. . . .”

Kurapika rubs his chin as he contemplates his possible next move. Should he try phoning Mizaistom? Even if Mizaistom can’t speak freely over an unsecured phone line, maybe he can at least drop a hint about the source of the commotion?

Hanzo leans away from the door. “I can’t hear anything anymore. Guess it’s over for now. Man, that’s a relief.”

“We can’t afford to be complacent,” Kurapika tells him. “If it’s loud enough to be heard from here, it may very well affect the first tier.”

“What should we do about it then?” Melody asks.

“I’ll figure something out,” Kurapika says. “Why didn’t you alert me like I asked you to?”

“I told Melody to let you be,” Hanzo chimes in. “You were dozing off anyway! Sitting pretty like a sleeping princess!”

“I wasn’t sleeping! I _said_ I wasn’t.” Smothering the sudden urge to punch something, he turns to Melody again. “Melody, go get some rest. It’s time for your break, isn’t it?”

Melody regards him quietly for a few seconds. “Do you want to trade breaks with me, Kurapika? I’m not tired yet. I’ve just been playing with Prince Woble the entire day, which I don’t find taxing at all. You, on the other hand. . . .”

“Look ready to fall over at any moment,” Bill finishes for her.

Kurapika sighs in frustration. Why does everyone like to constantly remind him of how permanently exhausted he looks? Don’t they think that he knows this better than anyone? Why can’t they just let him be?

Kurapika turns away and trains his eyes on the door. He prays for the inner strength not to lash out at them. 

“Just so we’re all clear,” he says, his tone carefully even, “I don’t intend to take any breaks again until I can figure out what’s happening in the second tier and whether it impacts the war. Let’s just get that non-negotiable tidbit out of the way now.”


	5. Wildcard wandering inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

His back against the sole entrance and exit point of the 14th Prince’s quarters, Kurapika stands there through the night, stock-still and listening hard. Whenever he feels himself nodding off or sliding down against the door, he pinches his arm to stay awake.

Just as he’s wincing from a pinch that will most likely bruise later, Bill approaches, holding a steaming mug of black coffee in either hand. Kurapika parts his mouth to express his gratitude, when a slapping noise on the door behind him causes him to whirl around.

“What is it?” Bill demands. “Has the commotion from the second tier started again?”

For just a split-second, Kurapika glimpses a single playing card stuck on the glass panel of the door. Then the card slides down, out of view.

A Joker card. This alone tells Kurapika everything he needs to know.

“I’m heading out to check,” Kurapika says, his eyes still fixed on the glass panel.

“What? _Now?_ Is that wise?”

Kurapika glances backward at Bill, who has sloshed some coffee on the floor due to his surprise. “I’m going alone,” Kurapika tells him. “Stay right there. Don’t follow me.”

“Wha —”

Kurapika slips out the exit, swiftly shutting the door behind him. He turns to the left, where a tall and lean jester stands waiting.

Combing back his flaming hair with sharp fingernails, Hisoka smirks down at him. “Ah, you came to meet me after all. I’m so touched.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kurapika deadpans.

“Now, now. Is that any way to greet an old _friend?_ ”

“Answer me. What are you doing here? What do you want from me?”

“You were never one for small talk, were you?” Hisoka snickers. “I need a place to hide. Any chance you’ll let me _come inside?_ ”

Kurapika’s face doesn’t even flicker. “Are you running from someone?”

“Several people, actually. A whole festive party, looking to use my head as a piñata.”

Kurapika sighs. “Let me guess. You killed a number of individuals, and their friends aren’t happy about it. The colossal disturbance in the second tier — did the manhunt for you trigger that noise?”

“Tell me, is it fun? Being the sharpest pretty boy on the Black Whale?”

“I’m at least sharper than you,” Kurapika says, narrowing his eyes. “There are cameras everywhere in these hallways, you know. There’s a camera focusing on this very door. Whoever you’re hiding from probably already knows you’re here.”

“Worry not, I’ve already taken care of everyone in the first tier control room. Whoever discovers the stink of the bodies will bear witness to a fine magic trick: the curious vanishing of all video surveillance footage and equipment. _Poof_.”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “Are you really trying to convince me to help you? Because you’re butchering your chances even more with every single word you say, you know?”

A sinister smile on his face, Hisoka stalks forward and forces up Kurapika’s jaw with a hand. “Here, how about this?” Hisoka breathes, right up against his ear. “What if I promise _very nicely_ to screw you so hard that your pretty scarlet eyes roll back into your head and see heaven, where your fallen brethren smile down —”

Kurapika’s face instantly flushes crimson, all the way to the tips of his ears. He shoves Hisoka backward, his chained hand scrabbling for the doorknob behind him.

“Die out here then!” Kurapika snarls.

Hisoka muscles his way in front of the door to prevent him from escaping. Thrown off balance by Hisoka’s maneuver, Kurapika is forced to grasp at the fabric of Hisoka’s shirt to stop himself from stumbling backward.

As if to shake off the embarrassment of almost falling and having to hold Hisoka to regain his balance, Kurapika lunges forward to slam Hisoka against the door.

Kurapika is breathing hard, a brilliant scarlet pulsing past his black contacts. 

With his back against the door, Hisoka licks his lips, thrilled at the emergence of red. Oh, how he’s _missed_ this.

“Be serious now,” Kurapika says, the venom palpable in his voice. “Forget leaving you out here to die — if you keep doing this, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Okay, okay.” Hisoka holds up his hands as if to surrender, but he’s still smiling. “Sorry, I can’t seem to resist teasing you. You’re even more adorable when you’re angry like this.”

Kurapika steps away, taking deep, slow breaths to calm himself. “So?” he finally says. “Give me one good reason not to feed you to the dogs, because I swear to God, Hisoka, I am _this_ close.”

Hisoka holds up two fingers. “I have _two_ good reasons, you’ll be delighted to know. First of all, the war here in the first tier. I hear you were dragged into it, and you’re barely scraping by. The war is almost over. You need allies for the final face-off. Don’t you think I could tip the scales in your favor? Imagine a formidable enemy like myself fighting by your side.”

Kurapika is unimpressed. “You’re a wildcard. No matter which side you’re on, it’s difficult to trust you. Don’t presume I’ve forgotten how you popped out unannounced during the hostage exchange for Gon and Killua. Your fickle nature nearly jeopardized that entire operation.”

“Fair enough. I knew you wouldn’t be convinced by simply that. Fortunately, my second reason is much more persuasive. Those two people I murdered in cold blood, whose friends are now hunting me down to avenge them? They had it coming to them. They were caught in the _spiderweb_ of their own complacency, shall we say.”

Hanzo springs to attention from the tangle of his blankets. Something’s amiss. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he senses a peculiarly malignant element in the air.

On the bed adjacent to his, Bill sits hunched over, the lines on his face looking even more deep-set than usual.

“Bill, for how long was I sleeping?” Hanzo asks.

Bill looks over with gloomy eyes. “The whole night. It’s morning now.”

“Eh?! Didn’t I say I was just going to lie down for a bit, since Kurapika is being such a hard-ass who won’t budge from guarding the door anyway? You should have woken me up!”

“Kurapika is asleep now, actually. And there was no point waking you up. Right now, this is the safest place to hide, believe me. The rest are hiding too, in the queen’s bedroom.”

“Hiding?” Hanzo asks. “From what?” 

“There’s this creepy guy in the living room, and his aura is full of malice! I’ve never felt anything like that before. . . .” Bill shudders as he remembers it.

Hanzo leaps from the bed, steeling himself for the possibility of combat. “Is it an enemy from an opposing camp?!”

“No, not an enemy. According to Kurapika, at least. Kurapika said the clown’s here to help, but I just don’t know. . . .”

Hanzo’s eyes widen. “Clown?!”

Without a second thought, Hanzo barrels out of the employees’ bedroom and bursts into the living room.

Just as he suspected, the clown was Hisoka!

Hisoka flashes an ominous smile. “Oh, long time no see . . . Hanzo, wasn’t it?”

"Hisoka! Why are you here?! How did you infiltrate the 14th Prince’s quarters?!”

“You’ve gotten a great deal stronger too, haven’t you? How _delectable._ ”

Owing to his initial indignation at Hisoka’s sudden reappearance in a place where obviously no one wants him, Hanzo only now notices something extremely disturbing — Kurapika, unconscious, body stretched out on the sofa, head nestled against Hisoka’s lap.

“What the hell are you doing to Kurapika?!” Hanzo yells. “You perverted damn Pierrot!”

Hanzo rushes forward to save Kurapika from — from whatever depraved acts that Hisoka surely has in store for him, but the murderous intent in Hisoka’s aura spikes the moment Hanzo approaches.

The malevolence is so overpowering that Hanzo freezes in his tracks.

“I didn’t do anything to Kurapika,” Hisoka says. “I resent the accusation. He fell asleep all of a sudden, so I merely moved him to a more comfortable position.”

Bill, who is cowering behind Hanzo, says, “Um, I can attest to that. I was still here when it happened. The two of them were talking, or maybe arguing, when Kurapika blacked out without warning.”

“Then you just left Kurapika here with Hisoka, totally defenseless?!” Hanzo demands.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Bill flusters. “This clown person kept looking at me as if weighing all the pros and cons of the different ways to slit my throat with those blasted playing cards of his!”

Kurapika begins to stir. “Urgh . . . so damn noisy.”

Hisoka smiles down at him. “Rise and shine, my golden boy.”

Hanzo fully expects Kurapika to break Hisoka’s nose at the sight of his ghostly white face looming over him, but instead, Kurapika just sits up very slowly, looking dazed.

Kurapika lifts his chained hand to his head, then winces in pain. “What _in the hell_ just happened?”

“You collapsed,” Hisoka says to him. “Have you been getting your eight hours of beauty sleep per night, hmm?”

Kurapika furrows his brows, then suddenly palms Hisoka on the face without even glancing at him. “This is all because you kept pissing me off so goddamn much!” Kurapika snarls. “Fuck! I even failed to deactivate it again!”

Hanzo and Bill gape in shock as Hisoka, still smiling, calmly peels off the chained fingers from his face.

“How long was I asleep?” Kurapika spits out at Hisoka.

“Five, maybe six hours?”

“Shit. Shit. _Shit!_ ” Kurapika buries his face in his hands, beginning to hyperventilate.

Not taking his eyes off Kurapika, Hisoka addresses the other two present in the room. “Do you two boys mind leaving me and Kurapika alone for a while? He just needs to _scream_ at me for a bit before he can calm down.”

“Like hell!” Hanzo shouts. “You let go of —”

But just then, Kurapika pulls his face away from his hands. Even as he continues struggling to contain his feral fit of panic, Kurapika looks Hanzo in the eye and shakes his head hard.

Hanzo clamps down his mouth, frustrated. Just what the hell is going on here? Why is Hisoka here, of all damn places in the world that he can torment with his pestilential presence? And why is Kurapika acting so absurdly out of character? Hanzo doesn’t get it. He can’t even begin to comprehend the sheer weirdness of this entire situation.

Bill nudges Hanzo from behind. “Come on. Let’s wait in the queen’s bedroom with Melody while these two finish their business.”

Hanzo turns around in a huff and stalks off, but Bill stays behind for a brief moment.

“Kurapika, are you really okay with this?” Bill asks. “Is this . . . something that you want?”

Kurapika studies the floor for a bit. “Yes, I’m okay with this,” he finally says. “Thank you, Bill. I’ll knock on the door when it’s safe to come out.”


	6. Taste for scarlet and strained control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Rough sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Unknotting Kurapika’s necktie, Hisoka asks him whether he can breathe yet.

Kurapika leans back on the sofa and watches as his tie flutters from Hisoka’s fingers to the floor. “I can never breathe properly in this godforsaken place anyway. Today’s just another variation of that same old story.”

“But you need to breathe for what we’re about to do.” Hisoka has started working on Kurapika’s shirt, but now his hand pauses over the buttons, then trails up Kurapika’s neck to part his lips.

Kurapika begins to suck on Hisoka’s thumb, then leans away with an annoyed sigh.

“I want something bigger,” Kurapika says. “Take off your pants.”

“Not yet. I’m not giving you anything until you turn your eyes scarlet for me.”

Kurapika’s expression darkens instantly. “ _Again?_ If you keep pushing me like this, you’re going to kill me, you know?”

“Please? The red of your eyes is the only color that excites me more than the red of fresh blood. I want to drown in that color. I want to _bathe_ in it.”

“Make me do it then. Make me red, I dare you.”

Hisoka leers down at him. “Sounds fun. Okay, I’ll bite. Remove your contacts first. I can’t have them getting in the way.”

Kurapika does as he’s told. Just as he screws the contact lens case closed, Hisoka leans in to nibble at his ear.

Kurapika tries to jerk away, but Hisoka holds him there by his nape, tracing his earlobe with his tongue until Kurapika’s entire face is burning up.

“You’re just as ticklish here as ever,” Hisoka whispers, his fingers toying with Kurapika’s earring. “Your eyes aren’t the only part of you that I’m an expert at making red, you know?”

Kurapika attempts to pull away again, and this time Hisoka lets him go. Kurapika is glaring at him and rubbing the entire left side of his face, still blushing furiously. 

“I know every sensitive spot of your body,” Hisoka drawls, “every crevice that can make you beg for me. And yet you had the audacity to stop replying to my emails?” 

“Sorry, but I found other toys to play with,” Kurapika says, his voice icy now. “Toys that weren’t waiting for me to mature just so that they could kill me at the right moment.”

Even though Hisoka has every intention of tormenting Kurapika even more for ignoring his messages, he can’t help laughing now. “Cheeky boy. This is why you’re one of my favorites.”

Inside his head, Hisoka muses. _You’ve been ripe for the killing for a while now, Kurapika. But I know something that those foolish Spiders fail to understand — the scarlet eyes of the Kurta clan are infinitely more precious and more valuable when they’re alive._

To set the scene, a year ago: a random Yorknew City bar, lights dimmed low and air blotted with smoke. 

Just like in a movie, their eyes meet across the crowded room.

Hisoka is just about to order his first drink for the night, while Kurapika has clearly had one drink too many. Kurapika holds Hisoka’s gaze for a few seconds, then drops his eyes to survey the glass of amber liquid that a much older man pushes toward him.

Hisoka shoves off from the bar counter and walks right up to Kurapika’s table. He sits next to Kurapika, sliding an arm over his shoulders and smiling down at the confusion of the older man in front of them. 

The older man wears a golden band on the ring finger of his left hand, Hisoka notices.

Hisoka glances up, amping up the threatening quality of his smile. “Hello there, Uncle. I can’t thank you enough for watching over _my boyfriend_ for me. Traffic was terrible. On the way here, all I could think about was beating anyone flirting with _my boyfriend_ into a bloody, toothless pulp.”

Of course, the older man stammers out some excuse and scampers away. As soon as he has left, Hisoka withdraws his arm from Kurapika’s shoulders.

Kurapika doesn’t react to this incident at all. He just gazes down at the table, his index finger idly tracing the rim of his glass. Hisoka snatches up the drink and knocks it back, smacking the glass down on the table when he’s finished.

Kurapika finally looks up at him. “You drove away the lecherous man plying me with free alcohol, and now you’re stealing my last drink too? What’s wrong with you?”

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

“I’m eighteen. That’s close.”

“Not close enough.”

Kurapika squints and rubs his eyes, which are bleary and brown. “Get me another drink to replace the one you’ve finished,” he orders.

“Are you sure you should be accepting drinks from random strangers at the bar? Married strangers, like that man earlier? Murderous almost-strangers, like myself?”

Before Hisoka can blink, Kurapika yanks down at the collar of his shirt and almost slams his head down on the table, if not for Hisoka’s lightning-fast reflexes. To halt the downward momentum, Hisoka slaps his palm against the wooden surface of the table, just narrowly avoiding breaking his nose.

Hisoka straightens up, but he can’t dislodge Kurapika’s continued grip on his collar.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Kurapika growls, his eyes flaring red. “I was having the _worst_ night before you even came along.”

Hisoka only smiles, reveling in the luminescent color gleaming gloriously at him amidst the smoky darkness of the bar. 

He finally manages to pry Kurapika’s chained fingers from his shirt. “Nope, I’m not buying you any more alcohol,” Hisoka says. “You’ve obviously had enough.”

“Hah?! Wanna die?!”

“Sure, why not? But I’d prefer to do it outside.” Hisoka points a thumb toward the exit.

Outside the bar, Kurapika squares up, stumbling a bit from the alcohol intake, but Hisoka marches right past him. Standing in the middle of the parking lot, he raises his hand and presses the button of the car keys that he’s just swiped from Kurapika’s pocket.

Hisoka follows the beeping sound, while Kurapika lurches after him.

“Hey, what the hell?” Kurapika says, noticing that Hisoka is holding open the door to the passenger’s seat of his own car.

“Get in and tell me where you live. I’ll drive you home.”

After a bit of a struggle, Hisoka manages to wrestle Kurapika onto the passenger’s seat and belt him in. Whistling, Hisoka then walks over to the driver’s side and gets in.

“So where do you live?” Hisoka asks, not bothering to clasp his own seat belt.

Kurapika, now resting his head against the window by the passenger’s seat, tells him.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Anything to get rid of you sooner. . . .” Kurapika sighs, fogging up the glass against his cheek.

Hisoka drives, and the car is quiet except for a faint clinking sound behind them. 

At a red light, Hisoka glances backward to see two glass jars on the backseat. There’s an eyeball inside each jar, the irises of both shining scarlet.

“Hey. You.”

Hisoka looks forward to the road again. “What?”

“Why are you doing this? Are you planning to kill me on my own bed? Suffocate me with my pillow or something?”

“Really now? Just what do you think of me?” Hisoka presses down on the gas as the traffic light turns green.

“You’re a psychopathic murderer who harbors a fetishistic obsession for two of my underage friends,” Kurapika says, without missing a beat. “I despise you and everything you represent.”

Hisoka snickers at this brutally honest assessment. “You’re not wrong, but that’s not why I’m doing this right now. You’re a part of my treasured collection of unripe fruits, you know? I won’t allow anything to irreparably harm you until I get to have my way with you first. What can I say? I like to protect my investments.”

“You’re doing this for my protection — is that what you’re saying? You’re protecting me now so that you can have a good time killing me later, when I’m stronger?”

“Indeed. Well, your specific case may be a _touch_ different from the rest. I think I’ve just developed a taste for watching you lose control.”

Inside Kurapika’s apartment, the walls are bare and white, the furnishings spartan. The only thing that stands out is a shelf lined with even more glass jars carrying the scarlet eyes of the Kurta clan.

Hisoka carefully considers each jar. He picks one up, turning it over in his hand to survey the color inside. 

No point denying it. Kurapika’s eyes are obviously the best of the bunch. All these others can’t hold a candle to Kurapika’s vibrant scarlet hue.

Hisoka returns the jar and glances over at the sole survivor of the Kurta clan, who is now lying asleep on his own bed. Hisoka supposes it’s time to make his escape, before the boy can wake up and yell bloody murder at him for breaking into his apartment and entering his bedroom.

Hisoka approaches the window. He is just about to clamber out when Kurapika suddenly calls his name for the first time that night.

“Hisoka? Will you please stay?”

Hisoka turns back to him. “Why should I stay?”

There’s a forlorn expression on Kurapika’s face. “It’s lonely at night. Isn’t it the same for you?”

Hisoka walks over and stands over the bed. He stares down at Kurapika, trying to gauge how wasted he must be to say such ridiculous things to _him_ , of all people in the world.

Kurapika moves over to leave half of the bed available. “Lie down, please? You don’t have to say or do anything. I just can’t be alone tonight.”

Hisoka considers this. Maybe it’s a good idea, after all? What if Kurapika chokes on his own vomit while he’s sleeping? Just how much did he have to drink exactly?

Feeling awkward, Hisoka climbs into bed beside Kurapika. 

Kurapika twists around to face away, but in doing so, his back scoots closer to Hisoka’s chest, and Hisoka can feel its warmth. Hisoka reaches for a pillow so that he can stuff it between their bodies.

Is Kurapika sighing? Has he fallen asleep again?

Still caught up in the absurdity of the situation, Hisoka lies stiff as a board until his body gives in to slumber.

When Hisoka wakes up the next morning, the first thing he sees is Kurapika standing over the bed.

“I was just about to wake you,” Kurapika says. He has a towel draped over his shoulders, his blond hair damp from a shower.

Hisoka sits up and shifts his legs uncomfortably beneath the blanket. “Where’s the bathroom?” he asks.

“Follow me.”

When they get to the bathroom, Hisoka walks in and tries to close the door behind him, but Kurapika swiftly blocks it with his foot.

Hisoka turns to him. “Know the concept of privacy? Ever heard of it?”

Kurapika ignores this and pushes inside to join Hisoka. He stares unabashedly down at Hisoka’s morning wood.

“You’re going to take care of that, right?” Kurapika asks, reaching up to rub his hair with the towel on his shoulders.

“If you already know, why are you here then? Do you _want_ to watch me jerk off?”

Kurapika tosses the towel aside. “Rather than watch, I want to assist you. Why else do you think I asked you to stay last night?”

Hisoka raises an eyebrow. “From what I can remember, you were begging me to keep you company because you felt _lonely_.”

“And you bought that bullshit? No, I asked you to stay because I always suspected that you were hung like a horse. I saw this rare opportunity to confirm my long-standing suspicion with my own eyes, so I took it.”

This revelation is so sudden that Hisoka can’t help but burst out laughing. 

“Then why didn’t you jump me last night?” Hisoka asks, smiling now. “I was right beside you. We were sharing a bed.”

“Would you have given in to a drunk person’s advances? Considering that you stopped me from drinking, refused to replace my drink that you finished, warned me against accepting drinks from strangers, then drove my drunk ass home, all in one god-awful night? For a cold-blooded killer, you’re surprisingly moral about this specific thing.”

“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” 

Hisoka steps forward, backing Kurapika against the bathroom wall. Hisoka places his hands against the tiles on either side of Kurapika’s face, trapping him there. They stare steadily at each other.

Not breaking eye contact, Kurapika reaches down to lower Hisoka’s pants. With his right hand, he fondles Hisoka’s erection, confirming its length.

The chains are cold, but Kurapika’s fingers are warm. The contrast in temperature makes Hisoka sigh.

“Seems like I guessed right,” Kurapika says. 

He breaks eye contact then, so that he can look down. His eyes widen at the sight, and he continues stroking Hisoka’s length as if in amazement.

“Now that you’ve satisfied your curiosity, what are you going to do with this information?” Hisoka teases him.

“I’m going to test my other hypothesis.” 

“Which is?”

“Whether the general rule holds true. Whether a longer and thicker penis makes sex extremely pleasurable. I want my first time to be memorable.”

Later, back in the bedroom of the apartment, Hisoka has Kurapika down on all fours so that he can finger him from behind. Kurapika trembles, his face pressed against a pillow.

“Let your voice out,” Hisoka tells him. “I want to hear you.”

Kurapika lifts his face from the pillow to allow a bit of noise to escape. Just then, Hisoka thrusts another finger deep inside him. Kurapika moans loudly, then quickly clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.

Hisoka smirks. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Hisoka wrenches Kurapika’s hand away and pins his wrist to his back. He runs a thumb over the chains wrapped over Kurapika’s fingers. As he imagines all the kinky things he can do with these chains, he can feel himself hardening again.

“Hey, are you really a virgin?” Hisoka asks him. “Aren’t my fingers entering you too easily? You’re sucking me in. You’re hungry for it.” 

As if to confirm these words, Kurapika clenches even more greedily around Hisoka’s fingers.

“You play with your ass, don’t you?” Hisoka asks. “Tell me.”

“Mm. Yeah. I play with it.”

“You do? What do you think about when you finger yourself?”

“Ahh. A friend. A close friend. I picture his face.”

“Oh? You want to defile this friend of yours, don’t you?” Hisoka quickens his pace.

“Nn. Nghh! Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“How do you think it would make him feel, knowing that you’re thinking such dirty thoughts about him? Knowing that you’re dying for him to _rim_ you, to _fuck_ your brains out. . . .”

With a shuddering gasp, Kurapika comes. 

His body sinks down due to the sense of release, but Hisoka lifts his hips again, continuing to finger him roughly. Kurapika whimpers.

“Hey, hey. I’m still talking. Listen to me. Don’t go getting distracted.”

Hisoka tightens his hold on Kurapika’ wrist. Kurapika flinches as the chains dig painfully against his own skin.

“How would your friend feel if he knew about these impure fantasies featuring him in a starring role?”

Kurapika pushes his face down on the pillow again. His voice leaks out, muffled. “He would hate me.”

“Of course he would. And how would he feel if he could see you right now — getting finger-fucked on all fours by this psycho murderer you despise?”

When Kurapika doesn’t answer, Hisoka puts even more pressure on his wrist. Hisoka watches as a drop of blood seeps out from under his thumbnail.

“Answer me,” Hisoka commands.

“Disgusted,” Kurapika says. “He’d feel disgusted.”

“Bingo.” Hisoka smiles down at the desecrated wonder beneath him.

Back in the present now, back in the living room in the 14th Prince’s quarters. 

Hisoka, who has allowed his mind to wander away, returns to the reality of Kurapika riding him on the sofa.

Kurapika has already ejaculated so many times that Hisoka’s abdomen is all sticky. Hisoka picks off some cum and licks it from his middle finger.

“Wow, just how pent up were you?” Hisoka asks him.

“Nn. It’s been too fucking long. You have no idea. I would have exploded any day now.”

“All the more reason to keep me around, yeah? I can fuck you any time you like. Knowing you, you won’t be satisfied unless you get it five times a day.”

Kurapika stops moving and glares down at Hisoka. His eyes flash scarlet, and Hisoka hisses in pleasure at the sight.

“Why haven’t you come yet?” Kurapika demands. “It’s seriously pissing me off.”

“You’re going too fast. I feel less like your partner, more like your fucktoy.”

“Tch. As if you wouldn’t treat me the same way, if the roles were reversed.”

Kurapika closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again, they’re no longer red. He rubs his temple for a second, looking suddenly dizzy.

While Kurapika is distracted, Hisoka sits up, attempting to flip him over, but Kurapika snaps back to attention and holds him down.

“Don’t you dare,” Kurapika warns him. “Once you have me on my back, it’s over. I’m not touching you ever again. I can promise you that.”

“Fine,” Hisoka sighs. “Just keep going. You’re killing me here.”

When Kurapika’s dizzy spell passes, he starts moving again, slower this time.

While Hisoka can’t help feeling disappointed that Kurapika’s eyes are brown again, now that Kurapika is rotating and rocking his hips with more deliberate movements, desire is truly beginning to build in Hisoka’s groin.

Kurapika leans forward, studying Hisoka’s reactions to everything he’s doing.

“You’ve gotten much better at this,” Hisoka tells him. “I like a boy who can maximize his potential.”

“Yeah, well, over-maximizing my potential and overstepping my boundaries seem to be recurring problems of mine.”

A particular maneuver causes Hisoka to shiver. He screws his eyes shut, unable to keep talking for the moment. Kurapika doubles down on the motion, keeping at it until Hisoka is panting and digging his nails into Kurapika’s hips, drawing blood.

“Let me come inside,” Hisoka gasps out.

“I don’t care. Do what you want. But if you give me any weird diseases, I’ll twist my chains around your nuts until they rupture.”

“Hnghh. Don’t make it sound so enticing.”

As Hisoka comes to a climax, he yanks Kurapika down by the waist so that he can shoot in as deeply as possible.

At the warm sensation of Hisoka spilling inside him, Kurapika teeters off the edge again.


	7. Psychological tollgate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Cheadle emerges, mentally bruised and battered, from a particularly heated meeting in the political ward. 

“That King Nasubi is simply being too unreasonable. . . .” she murmurs to herself. 

Plagued with thoughts of spoiled royals and traitorous identities, she nearly walks into a small individual hovering by the front door of the medical ward.

“How can I help you?” Cheadle inquires.

“Oh! Good afternoon, Chairman Yorkshire.”

Cheadle doesn’t recognize the woman, but the formal suit with a capital “H” emblazoned over the breast tips her off. “You’re a Hunter who applied as a guard in the first tier, right?”

“Yes, my name’s Melody.” She extends a hand to Cheadle, who shakes it. “I’m currently assigned to the 14th Prince’s camp.”

“The 14th Prince. . . . With Kurapika of the Zodiac Twelve, then? Why don’t you come in?” Cheadle gestures toward the door.

Melody looks down, shuffling her feet. “It seems . . . busy inside, and I don’t want to interfere. I’m just looking for someone. Leorio, Kurapika’s friend.”

Cheadle peers through the door. “Leorio isn’t in, so he must be finishing his rounds. He should be back any minute now. I suggest waiting inside. There’s plenty of space, I assure you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Melody follows Cheadle inside the medical ward. As Cheadle heads behind the counter to confer with Gel, Melody stands by the wall.

Melody observes patients and visitors alike milling about, awaiting test results, clamoring by the counter. Her grip on her flute tightens as the dreaded aural atmosphere common to hospitals and hospices reverberates around her skull. The general grief, pain, and anxiety echo horribly within these closed walls.

During moments like this, Melody often feels the urge to play a musical piece to regulate the imbalance of mood surrounding her. But she knows that this isn’t the time or place. She’s already utilized her Nen abilities for questionable purposes twice today — enchanting the guards of the ship into hypnotized stasis to enable her to cross over from the first tier to the second then third tier.

Melody just then detects a familiar sound approaching from the hallway outside, a heartbeat so pleasant and comforting that she can feel herself smiling before she even witnesses its owner.

A tall man with spiky dark hair barges in with a medical cart. “Coming through, coming through!” he calls out, giving the visitors standing too close to the door a chance to dart out of his way.

Leorio has only taken a few steps inside the medical ward when two kids, after nudging each other with mischievous grins, charge at him and leap up to hang from either of his arms. While Leorio gasps and stumbles backward from the sudden impact, he manages to right himself in a second.

Smiling smugly, Leorio lifts his arms high enough so that both kids dangle at least three feet from the floor. “Thought you caught me unaware this time, huh?” Leorio teases. “Not a chance!”

As Leorio flexes his muscles, the kids scream with laughter as they rise and dip with his movements. While this game draws a few disapproving looks from other visitors, Melody senses a buoyant shift in the gloomy mood of the room.

How extraordinary, Melody muses.

Leorio finally notices Melody watching him. There’s a strange stutter in his heartbeat, even though he remains smiling.

Leorio sets the kids down and urges them to sit quietly next to their parents. The kids boo at this, but he only rumples their hair and reminds them to behave. 

He then wheels the cart behind the counter, and after exchanging a few words with Cheadle and Gel, he heads toward Melody. When he reaches her side, he isn’t smiling anymore. The expression there is subdued.

“Hey, Melody,” he says. “It’s been a while. Mind talking to me outside? It’s too crowded here.”

“I’d prefer that too.”

The moment they’re out in the hallway, Leorio’s words burst out as if he’s been repressing them for days. “Kurapika? Is he safe? Is he okay?”

Melody is startled by the sudden intensity of his expression, by the unashamed desperation in his voice. As is her habit, she analyzes the thrum of his heartbeat to figure out the possible reasons for such a radical change. 

There’s an emotional whirlwind in his chest. Perhaps Leorio himself isn’t sure of what he feels.

“He hasn’t visited me in three days,” Leorio mutters. “No word, nothing. Knowing that so many people are dying up in the first tier, I’ve been worried sick. . . .”

“So you’re the one he’s been visiting,” Melody says.

“He never mentioned me?”

“I wouldn’t be too offended. Kurapika makes it a point to never talk about anything unrelated to work when he’s around us. As for whether he’s okay, physically speaking, he’s . . . worse for wear. I suppose that’s the best way to put it. If you’ve seen him any time recently, then you’ll already know what I mean.”

“Still half dead then?” Leorio starts toying with an exposed thread on the sleeve of his uniform, agitated now.

“Psychologically speaking, however, he’s much worse.”

Leorio’s eyes widen. “Psychologically worse . . .?”

“Okay, this next bit requires a fair amount of context, so you’ll have to be patient with me. First off, do you know how long the voyage to the Dark Continent was supposed to last?”

Leorio scratches his head. “Let’s see. Three weeks over territorial waters to get to the New Continent, where everyone except the Hunters will get off. At that point, the Succession War will be over. Then the Hunters have five more weeks to go, over uncharted waters, before reaching the Dark Continent.”

“Correct. And how many weeks has it been since we set sail?”

Realization dawns on Leorio’s face. “Oh! Nearly three weeks now! The Succession War should practically be over! If we don’t count today, there’s about two days left, right?”

“That’s what we thought. That’s what we hoped for. We poured all our energy into what appeared to be the last leg of the race. But these past few days, so many unexpected things have happened. So much has changed.”

“What changed?” Leorio asks.

“As you know, when the Kakin Empire first publicly announced its determination to set foot in the Dark Continent, we the Hunters appeased them by pretending that we’d take them all the way there, while secretly intending to only take them as far as the New Continent. I don’t know who betrayed our side, but somehow Kakin caught wind of the Hunters’ deception. Now, the Kakin royal family, mafia families, and elites are insisting that the Hunters escort them all the way to the Dark Continent, instead of settling for the nominal arrival point at the New Continent.”

“What? Don’t they realize how dangerous the true Dark Continent is? Regular people, who are neither Hunters nor Nen users, don’t stand a chance!”

“They know, and they don’t care,” Melody says. “All these people want to do is live forever in their history books — they couldn’t care less about how long they live on Earth.”

“Then the Succession War. . . .” Leorio trails off.

“It’s still up for debate, but given these circumstances, I’d say that it’s almost a certainty that the war will be extended by five more weeks at most, or until the Black Whale reaches the Dark Continent.”

Leorio chokes. “ _Five entire weeks?_ But that’s even longer than the original timeline of three weeks!”

“If you really think about it, this decision makes sense, at least from Kakin’s point of view. Out of fourteen princes, only three have died, and it’s been nearly three weeks. There can only be one survivor, only one king.”

Leorio resumes picking at the thread sticking out from his sleeve. “Hey, I don’t mean to sound like I’m thirsty for royal blood or anything, but . . . why are eleven princes still alive? Maybe they’re not willing to murder each other for the throne anymore?”

Melody shakes their head. “No, that’s not it. Most of these princes want to rule Kakin. They haven’t given up or gone soft. The main reason the death rate has slowed down is the stalemate.”

“There’s a stalemate?”

Melody starts. “Wait, you haven’t heard about the stalemate? I’m amazed. It was none other than Kurapika who manipulated the war into a stalemate, after all. You might even say that he’s the one indirectly responsible for the war being drastically extended in the first place.”

Leorio’s jaw drops. He already knows that Kurapika has been caught up in the war, but who could have guessed that his friend, with his baby face and all, would be such a central figure in its flow?

“Of course, the extension of the war was an unintended consequence,” Melody tells him. “In opening up free Nen training sessions to all the princes’ camps, Kurapika’s original intention had been to level the playing field in order to give the younger princes a fighting chance.”

“Kurapika was giving out free Nen training sessions . . .?” Leorio is at a loss. Sure, Kurapika has always been way ahead of him when it comes to Nen proficiency, but to think that he’s at such an advanced level to even consider training other people. . . . What sort of wild things has Kurapika been getting up to. . . .

“It’s not all bad, honestly,” Melody says. “Now that the war will be extended, we have more time to fortify our defenses. Kurapika has been working tirelessly on training Queen Oito every day to achieve just that. Still, the psychological toll on Kurapika is excessive — knowing that the war may last five weeks longer, thinking that he is at least partially to blame for that. . . .”

Leorio clenches his fist. “ _Has_ anyone been blaming Kurapika for that? If so, I hate them! I’ll punch them! Based on the way you described it, it sounds like he had only good intentions!”

“I do have a better grasp than most regarding Kurapika’s true intentions, and yes, I agree with you. Above and beyond his sense of self-preservation and his own private reasons for joining the voyage in the first place, his priority has consistently been Prince Woble’s and Queen Oito’s survival.”

“That’s what I’m saying! Kurapika is a good guy! I know him best, so I know!”

At this moment, Gel pokes her head out the doorway leading to the medical ward.

“Leorio, playtime’s almost over,” Gel says. “Be back here in five.”

When Gel vanishes back into the medical ward, Leorio turns back to Melody.

“Oh, right. Hey, thanks for indulging me, Melody. You even had to listen to me rant about Kurapika. Seems like I can’t talk about anything else these days. All I do is worry about him and hope he’s okay. . . .”

Melody smiles gently. “Yes, it’s never a fun experience to worry or care about Kurapika. He doesn’t encourage it, will sometimes even resent you for it.”

“You really know him well, huh? Ack!” Leorio suddenly shakes his head, as if trying to clear it. “Sorry, I’ll seriously shut up about Kurapika now. I must be boring you to death. What was the real reason you came to visit?”

“I don’t mind that you brought him up,” Melody says. “He’s the one I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Eh? Why did you want to talk about him?”

“Leorio, do you remember the time that Kurapika and I left Yorknew City, and you came to see us off at the airport?”

Leorio nods.

“Remember what you told me back then?”

Leorio thinks about this for a second, and is surprised to realize that he can recall that day, about two years ago now, almost perfectly. “I asked you to look after Kurapika. I told you that he’s smart, but he’s also reckless. He doesn’t always think things through.”

“Right. It’s happening again. Kurapika is doing things without thinking them through. I try to talk to him, but he refuses to open up to me. I’m afraid that I’m not looking after him in the right way.”

As Leorio observes Melody’s somber expression, he feels an inexplicable sense of dread building up inside him. “I don’t understand. What exactly is Kurapika doing?”

Melody looks uncomfortable. “It’s difficult to explain what’s happening. I don’t even know if there’s anything that you or I or anyone else can do about it. Perhaps I came down here to talk to you for my own selfish reasons. I just wanted to commiserate with the one other person on this ship whom I know genuinely cares about Kurapika’s well-being.”

“But how can I help him if I don’t even get what you’re saying?”

“I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

“Okay, I won’t force you to say anything. The next time Kurapika comes to see me, I can ask him about it directly.”

Melody shakes her head. “That’s just the thing. I’m not sure Kurapika can come to visit you or even leave the 14th Prince’s quarters any time soon.”

Leorio sighs in frustration. “Don’t tell me he’s overdoing things again?”

“Kurapika is not only more preoccupied with work these days, but every single time he tries to rest or even catch a breath, a very . . . unhealthy coping mechanism takes over.” Melody’s eyes briefly narrow in distaste. “But beyond that, Queen Oito is also growing increasingly reluctant to let him out of her sight. More and more, she fears for Prince Woble’s safety and requires Kurapika’s constant reassurance.”

“He’s as popular as ever, huh?” Leorio snorts. “Why do I always feel like I have to get in line to even talk to him?”

“Hmm, is that the way you see it? It doesn’t look that way to me. Didn’t Kurapika come to visit you and talk to you himself, not the other way around?”

Upon realizing that she’s right, Leorio feels his entire face heat up. He starts rubbing on the dark scruff lining his jaw, suddenly embarrassed.

“Leorio,” Melody says, her voice soft now, “Kurapika can’t come visit you under the present circumstances, but he must want to. Please find a way to come see him if you can. Perhaps you can help him in all the ways that I can’t.”

Cheadle is once again updating the central hospital logbook for the night, reveling in the routinary nature of the task, comforting and familiar amidst all the threatening new issues surrounding the clash between the Hunter Association and the Kakin Empire.

The quiet beauty of routine is interrupted, however, by the bang of the stockroom door swinging open. Leorio emerges, stinking of smoke, a wild look in his eyes.

“What now?” Cheadle groans, clapping the logbook shut.

Ever since the Hunter named Melody paid him a visit that afternoon, Leorio has been suggesting bizarre new activities for the medical staff. Extending the staff’s rounds to the upper tiers. Taking the initiative to help the wounded participants of the Succession War. Conducting pediatric checkups with the younger princes, 13th Prince Marayam and 14th Prince Woble. 

Cheadle shot down all these foolish ideas with calm and logical responses, but she wishes she didn’t have to deal with any more for the night. Can’t this stubborn man just resume pestering her in the morning, when she’s had time to sleep and he’s had time to reflect on the wisdom of indulging in whatever strange new obsession this is?

Cheadle glances over at Gel. Her companion is handling all patient dealings in her usual smooth manner, so Cheadle knows that she’ll have to manage Leorio alone.

Leorio marches up to Cheadle, thumping his fist on his chest. “Cheadle, I’m so hurt.”

“So would I be if I were chain-smoking that much. Your poor lungs. . . .”

“I’m not talking about my lungs! My heart! My heart is hurt! You didn’t think I’d find out your little secret?”

Cheadle raises an eyebrow. “What little secret?”

“I’m talking about the whole mess with Kakin, and the Succession War being extended —”

With a shocked gasp, Cheadle jumps forward to clamp her hand over his mouth. When he shuts up, she hauls him by the ear into the privacy of the stockroom.

Inside the small closed space of the stockroom, the nicotine stench is so overpowering that Cheadle pinches her nose.

“Ah, this place is terrible. How can Kurapika even stand to be holed up inside with you for long periods of time. . . .”

“Eh? Is it really that bad?” Leorio looks suddenly mortified.

“Forget about that for a moment. How did you find out about the Kakin dilemma? Not even all the Zodiacs have heard about that.”

“Does it matter how? Does Gel know?”

Cheadle finally lets go of her nose, still twitching it periodically in disgust. “Gel knows.”

“Why not confide in me too? You don’t trust me because I’m new? Is there a seniority rule among the Zodiacs that I don’t know about? I feel so betrayed. . . .”

Cheadle sighs. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry that I didn’t give you a blow-by-blow account of the countless political struggles going on in the upper tiers? It’s not as if those matters affect the medical staff anyway.”

Leorio waves his hand dismissively. “As long as you promise to stop leaving me out, no need to say sorry! So when are we holding the Zodiacs meeting?”

“Which meeting of the Zodiacs?” Cheadle asks.

“You know, the meeting where all the Zodiacs who are aware of the Kakin dilemma unite! We’ll put our heads together, combine our brain power, and come up with a solution!”

“There’s no such meeting. Mizai, Botobai, Ginta, and I are handling it.”

“But don’t you think there _should_ be a meeting like that? Most importantly, we should bring Kurapika into the fold! He’s the one most affected by this problem! His actual life is on the line up there!”

Cheadle narrows her eyes. Why does Leorio always get so heated up whenever the Rat is involved? Isn’t this big guy worrying about his little friend too much? Besides, the Rat has already repeatedly proven himself to be competent.

“I hate to admit it, but there may be something to that idea,” Cheadle says. “I don’t doubt that Kurapika’s abilities would be extremely useful to us right now. Mizai said that Kurapika assisted in rooting out Beyond’s allies during the 289th Hunter Exam. Since we’re searching for the traitor among the Hunters — the one who revealed our secret to the Kakin Empire — Kurapika can help us figure out the traitor’s identity.”

Leorio’s jaw drops, and Cheadle realizes, exasperated, that his thought process hadn’t even gotten that far ahead. What is his motivation for even pushing for a meeting then?

Cheadle sighs again. “Fine, I’ll set up a Zodiac Twelve meeting for tomorrow afternoon. I’ll get Mizai to contact Kurapika. I’m sure that Kurapika is busier than ever as he deals with the fallout of the war’s extension, but we’ll see whether we can steal him away for an hour or so.”


	8. Golden standards of morality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Rough sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Dinner in the 14th Prince’s quarters is an awkward affair.

The conversation between Queen Oito, who sits at the head of the table, and Shimano, who sits to her left, is pleasant enough, as Shimano bounces 14th Prince Woble on her lap and as the queen savors her meal with small, refined bites. Even so, their innocuous exchange echoes ominously around the kitchen, given the absolute silence from the five other people sitting around the table.

To the queen’s right, Kurapika is nursing a migraine and a total lack of appetite. Elbow propped up on the table and forehead resting on his palm, his thumb traces erratic circles over his throbbing temple. Finding it impossible to even _think_ about anything beyond the pulsating pain in his head, he has given up pretending to eat.

To Kurapika’s right, Hisoka toys with his food with his right hand, while his left hand strokes Kurapika’s thigh. His fingers are wandering dangerously close to the crotch area, but Kurapika is too distracted by the splitting sensation in his brain to tell him to stop. Hisoka knows that Melody, sitting on his other side, can see him groping Kurapika under the table, but he doesn’t care. If anything, Hisoka derives voyeuristic amusement from being watched.

To Hisoka’s right, Melody attempts to arrange her face into an emotionless mask as she pops tasteless pea after tasteless pea into her mouth. Every minute that passes in proximity to Hisoka and Kurapika, who fuck like rabbits every moment they’re alone — Hisoka corners Kurapika at least thrice per day, and Kurapika occasionally initiates it himself, so it’s a lot to listen to — is just another exercise in remembering that her amplified auditory sense is first and foremost a curse, not a gift.

If Melody could only learn how to free her ears from the sounds of their sex, she would have done so by now. As it is, however, she always hears every gritty detail with perfect clarity — their curses, their moans, their dirty talk, the sweaty skin smacking against sweaty skin, Kurapika’s wheezing whenever Hisoka chokes him, which Hisoka seems particularly fond of doing.

Considering that Hisoka has the most deceitful heartbeat that Melody has ever heard, the entire affair makes her stomach turn. Hisoka constantly provokes Kurapika just to trigger the scarlet eyes, and Melody often catches Kurapika nodding off in bone-deep exhaustion when he’s supposed to be working. She wishes she could just talk to Kurapika about it, but nowadays he’s too fidgety to even look her in the eye, let alone listen to any of her concerned entreaties.

On the other side of the table, to Shimano’s left, Hanzo furiously shovels his food into his mouth. Back when Hanzo was confined for three hours in the queen’s bedroom while Hisoka and Kurapika were “finishing their business,” he spent that whole time whisper-ranting to Bill and Melody while the queen slept serenely on her bed. He was pissed at Hisoka for being in the 14th Prince’s quarters, pissed at Kurapika for permitting him to stay. Hanzo is just pissed all over about everything these days.

To Hanzo’s left, Bill sighs as the peas from Hanzo’s meal bounce off on his own plate, thanks to Hanzo’s highly aggressive eating style. Unlike Hanzo, Bill has clued in to the probability of an entanglement between Kurapika and Hisoka. He first guessed at a sexual history between them when Hisoka had moved Kurapika’s head to his lap with an uncommon gentleness. This suspicion was all but confirmed when Hisoka kept eye-fucking Kurapika after he woke up, even going so far as to shoo Bill and Hanzo away from the living room for some alone time.

Bill glances up from yet another ricocheting pea when he hears the queen address Kurapika with a tone of worry. The queen is in the middle of inquiring whether he is taking issue with anything on his plate, when Kurapika suddenly jumps up, his chained hand clamped over his mouth, to rush out of the kitchen.

Hisoka stands by the closed bathroom door, listening to the sound of Kurapika throwing up inside. Then there’s a shuffling as Kurapika stumbles to his feet, then a flush from the toilet, then a splashing of water in the sink.

In his hurry to spew his guts into the toilet, Kurapika has forgotten to lock the door. Hisoka pushes it open and leans against the doorframe. Kurapika looks at Hisoka through the mirror, then leans down to rinse his mouth.

“Feeling better?” Hisoka asks.

“I’m feeling _fantastic_ , thanks.” Kurapika’s tone is sarcastic as he returns his toothbrush to the cup by the sink.

“Maybe we overdid it today.”

Kurapika gazes at the mirror, trying to fix his damp hair. “You’re telling me this now?”

“What can I say? It’s difficult to know when enough is enough when I’m balls-deep inside you, hearing you beg. _Harder, Hisoka. Faster, Hisoka. Destroy me with your dick, Hisoka._ ”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “Are you trying to mimic my voice? What a paltry attempt. Try harder.”

“No point in trying the impossible, my dear boy. Your voice when I’m giving it to you deep is way more titillating than any porno.”

Kurapika glares at him through the mirror. “Get out. I look like crap, so I’m taking a shower.”

Instead, Hisoka enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He grabs Kurapika by the nape and pushes his head down over the sink.

“I told you to leave me alone.” Kurapika’s voice is muffled due to the pressure on his neck.

“I have no concept of privacy, I know. I learned this disregard for privacy from the best.” Hisoka reaches around to unbuckle Kurapika’s belt.

“Didn’t you just talk about not overdoing it? Bastard.”

“I said that we overdid it today, not that we should stop overdoing it. In fact, let’s overdo it right now. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I still feel sick,” Kurapika says, closing his eyes.

“Then isn’t it a good thing that your head’s already over the sink?”

“You really don’t care about anyone other than yourself, huh? Whatever. Just get this over with.”

Hisoka stares down at Kurapika’s resigned form below him and begins to reconsider. He stops squeezing Kurapika’s ass and instead pulls up his shirt to have a full view of his back.

“Fine, I’m not putting it in,” Hisoka tells him. “But at least let me come on you, okay?”

Hisoka takes out his cock and starts to lazily stroke it over Kurapika’s body, while Kurapika watches him through the mirror.

“You’re really bending a sick person over just to use him as a masturbatory aid, huh?” Kurapika says. “Who is whose fucktoy now?”

“As far as masturbatory aids go, you’re the best. Easy ten out of ten.” Hisoka trails his fingertips over Kurapika’s smooth back. “Hah, I’m going to love tainting this immaculate skin of yours. Such a beautiful canvas. You should thank me, you know, for artfully contaminating your pristine exterior to reflect your irreparably fucked-up interior.”

“Pervert,” Kurapika mutters.

“Who’s the pervert? Do you even realize that you keep pushing your ass back against me? You actually _want_ this thing inside you, don’t you?”

Kurapika stops squirming immediately, embarrassed now.

“You can just ask me to fuck you, you know?” Hisoka teases. “If you ask me nicely, you know I won’t say no.”

Kurapika trains his eyes down on the sink. “Fuck me then. Fuck me so I can’t think about anything else.”

“Well, since you begged.”

“I wasn’t begg —!”

Hisoka pushes inside, shoving his entire length into Kurapika with a single powerful thrust of his hips. “God, you’re tight. How can you be this fucking tight when I was ravaging you not even an hour ago? Don’t clamp down so hard. You’ll break me in half.”

Kurapika heaves out a shaking breath, willing himself to relax.

“There you go,” Hisoka says. “Good boy. Train yourself to accommodate my shape from now on, okay?”

Hisoka starts to plow into him from behind, again and again and again.

Gasping, Kurapika grips the edges of the sink for dear life. “Hisoka! Too hard!”

“Just the way you like it, right?”

“Just finish up and leave, goddamn it!”

Hisoka yanks up Kurapika’s hair to make him face the mirror again.

“You know what I want, don’t you?” Hisoka says, his voice soft.

Kurapika sighs, then forces his eyes to flash scarlet. His temple pulsates with searing pain again, sharp as jagged glass, and he grits his teeth.

Hisoka moans, and Kurapika can feel him spurting inside.

When Hisoka finally lets him go, Kurapika goes over to the bathtub to fill it with water. He sits on the edge of the tub and strokes his head with his fingertips again.

Hisoka has turned to go, but turns back to ask him something. “I just noticed. You don’t wear your contacts anymore, do you?”

Kurapika looks up at him through his chained fingers. “You’d just make me remove them anyway.”

“Wear them when you’re not with me,” Hisoka says before he leaves. “Don’t share that coveted color so freely.”

Kurapika is lying alone in the employees’ bedroom when he hears the door open and close. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. The man never leaves him alone, after all.

A weight settles behind him in bed, then hands untuck his shirt and creep up to play with his nipples.

Kurapika elbows Hisoka without even looking at him. “Go away. I have a meeting in the political ward tomorrow, so I’m trying to sleep.”

“Meeting or no, isn’t it way too early for bedtime, my adorable little insomniac?”

“Tell that to the queen. I wanted to train with her for just an hour, but she insisted that I sleep through the night. Melody must have told her that I was feeling ill.”

“Oh? Then we have the entire night to ourselves, don’t we? What a sumptuous treat this is.” Hisoka starts pinching Kurapika’s hard nipples.

Kurapika elbows him again. “I just had a bath, so I’m not doing anything tonight. I don’t want to clean myself out again.”

Hisoka withdraws his hands but doesn’t leave the bed. “Please? I’ll pull out at the last second, I promise. I’ll aim it at your face instead.”

“I don’t trust you. Why don’t you spread your legs for me for a change, how about that?”

Kurapika isn’t being serious, but he hears a rustling behind him. When he turns around in bed, Hisoka is stark naked and waiting.

Hisoka smiles invitingly at him. “Well? Aren’t you going to mount me?”

Kurapika just stares blankly. “Have you actually lost your mind? Has the bloodlust finally blown your brain into bits?”

“It never ceases to amuse me when you call me a bloodthirsty killer to insult me. It takes one to know one, right?”

Kurapika narrows his eyes, offended by the implication. “I’m not like you. Those people that I killed, they deserved it.”

“Oh, so you’re that rare and special person who gets to decide who lives and who dies. I see. How impressive. How will I ever hope to meet your golden standard of morality.”

“At least I endeavor to maintain _some_ sort of standard,” Kurapika protests. “Unlike you, who indiscriminately kills anyone who dares to get in your way.”

“If you ask me, we are _exactly_ the same. We both managed to murder two members of the Phantom Troupe and get away with it. Can you say the same about a single other person in this world?”

Kurapika’s eyes instantly spark red at the mention of the Troupe. He sits up, seething.

Hisoka smiles, expectant. “Hey, if I’m a psychopathic murderer you despise, then what do you call yourself? Boy, your sainted ancestors must be proud of the man you’ve become, huh?”

Kurapika is on top of Hisoka in a flash, his chained hand closed around Hisoka’s throat. He chokes him for a few seconds, then releases him. 

Hisoka sputters, sucking oxygen back into his lungs with giant gulps.

Kurapika is breathing hard, flexing his fingers and forcing himself to calm down. He punches the pillow next to Hisoka’s head, frustrated with himself for losing control.

Hisoka massages his throat. “Next time, squeeze me longer, tighter. I can’t come if you’re choking me this gently.”

Kurapika stares down at him, his eyes redder than Hisoka has ever seen them, and Hisoka has never been harder in his life.

Hisoka reaches up to caress Kurapika’s face, and Kurapika jerks back, repulsed by the sudden show of tenderness.

“Please fuck me, Kurapika,” Hisoka begs. “I’m so turned on right now. Fuck me with your eyes red. I want to see how hard you can go, how badly you can hurt me.”

Kurapika hisses. “If I do it to you with the full strength of Emperor Time, I might kill you.”

“Kill me then. I’ve died before, you know, by the hands of a man _almost_ as delicious as you are right now.”

Kurapika continues glaring down at him for a few seconds, then shuffles backward to kick off his trousers and reposition himself between Hisoka’s legs.

Kurapika pushes up Hisoka’s thighs, and Hisoka’s asshole twitches in anticipation.

Kurapika’s next words are blunt. “I’m not going to prepare you then.”

Hisoka sighs. “Yes.”

“I’m going to tear you open.”

“Yes, please do.”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard that the agony makes you black out.”

“God, yes!”

Despite all these warnings, Kurapika enters him gently, considerately, almost lovingly.

It’s not the first time that Hisoka has ever taken a cock, but it’s been a while. He takes long deep breaths as his body gradually readjusts to the strange feeling of fullness, the sensation of being stretched out over a foreign interference.

Kurapika waits for Hisoka to acclimate, firmly holding his torso down even as he attempts to buck his hips upward. Kurapika stays still for a while, then starts to softly rub Hisoka’s dick with his left hand.

Kurapika waits until Hisoka’s breathing returns to its usual pace. “Ready to go?”

Hisoka smirks. “Been ready for years now. Better follow through with your sweet promises to wreck me.”

Hands pushing down against the backs of Hisoka’s knees, Kurapika finally starts to move, his pace slow, almost languid.

Kurapika closes his eyes for a while, sighing as the unique pleasure of being tightly embedded courses through his body. When he opens his eyes again, the scarlet essence, shimmering with lust, shoots like a drug into Hisoka’s veins.

Hisoka trembles, wanting _more._

Yes, this feeling of being impaled by a red-eyed demon is wonderful — heavenly even — but he can’t wait for the demon to drag him to hell. Now to set the trap. . . .

Hisoka smiles up at Kurapika, reaching up to stroke his chest under his shirt. “Hey, pretty boy. Just now, when you were closing your eyes, you were picturing his face, weren’t you? That precious friend of yours that you like to imagine when you finger yourself?”

Kurapika’s eyes widen, and he answers too quickly. “I — I wasn’t.”

“So it’s not enough to fantasize about your friend fucking you senseless anymore? Now you’re picturing yourself thrusting into him like this? Just how filthy is that mind of yours?”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that.”

Hisoka fakes a shocked tone. “Me? Talk about _him?_ I don’t even know who he is. I’m talking about _you._ _You’re_ the one who’s sick. _You’re_ the one who’s poisoning the purity of your friendship like this.”

“Shut up. I swear to God, if you don’t shut up right now —”

Hisoka laughs cruelly. “Looks like I’ve stepped on a landmine. Don’t tell me — you’re in love with him, aren’t you? You love him, yet here you are, sticking it inside someone like —”

Kurapika smacks his chained hand over Hisoka’s mouth and begins to piston into him _hard._

Hisoka cries out against his palm, his eyes rolling backward in mingled pleasure and pain. Kurapika is propelling into him so ferociously that the bed is groaning beneath them, threatening to break down any second now.

Hisoka twists his head away from Kurapika’s hand so that he can breathe.

“ _Ahh!_ It hurts! It hurts _so good!_ More, Kurapika! More!”

When Hisoka orgasms, he feverishly strokes himself to prolong it — ejaculating so forcefully that the cum splatters on his own chin.

Hisoka has barely had a second to gather his wits after that mind-numbing release, when Kurapika suddenly pulls out, eliciting a gasp from the man underneath him.

Groaning now at the aching, burning emptiness between his legs, Hisoka watches through hooded eyes as Kurapika crawls forward to sit on his shoulders.

Kurapika grips a fistful of Hisoka’s fiery hair and guides his lips to his cock.

“Swallow,” Kurapika commands.

Trapped beneath that scarlet glare, Hisoka opens his mouth as wide as it can go.


	9. Unbutton for sordid surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

When Leorio, Cheadle, and Gel enter the conference room for the Zodiac Twelve meeting, the members assigned to the political ward are already there, confabulating over coffee and doughnuts.

Ginta, the Sheep, beckons a doughnut toward Leorio. “Here you go, Boar. Treat yourself. Cheadle tells us you’ve been doing real good work in the medical ward.”

Leorio lets it fall on his palm, except it’s really more a mess of rainbow sprinkles than any type of doughy confection. He whips his head wildly around, distracted, as his eyes search for the only thing he cares about right now.

Guessing at the source of Leorio’s preoccupation, Cheadle takes pity on him and decides to speak up. “Where’s Mizai?” Cheadle asks Ginta. “Did he succeed in borrowing Kurapika from the 14th Prince’s camp in the first tier?”

Ginta nods, pointing to a closed door on the far side of the conference room. “The two of them are in there. The Rat is using his ability to figure out the identity of the Hunter who betrayed our side to Kakin.”

“I don’t get why the Rat needs to be so secretive about it,” Botobai, the Dragon, grumbles beside Ginta. “As you said, we’re all on the same side in this case.”

Ginta shrugs. “Can’t be helped. Understanding the specifics of one’s Nen ability is like understanding one’s biggest weakness, after all. No one wants to be that vulnerable.”

Cheadle approaches the door. “I’m heading in to observe for a bit. Are you coming along, Leorio?”

Leorio brightens. “Ah! Yeah, of course!”

Cheadle and Leorio enter the small room, with Leorio closing the door behind him. Mizaistom glances at them when they enter, but Kurapika, who is facing away from the door and standing over a desk, doesn’t turn around.

Kurapika continues to stare at a TV beyond the desk, where a man is talking on the screen. His Dowsing Chain dangles over a single sheet of paper on the desk.

When the chain remains motionless, Kurapika says, “Clear.”

With a practiced efficiency, Mizaistom replaces the sheet of paper with another. He then fast-forwards to another section of the tape, where another person is now speaking on the screen.

While Cheadle leans against the wall to watch the near-silent operation, Leorio approaches Kurapika, moving slowly so that he doesn’t break his concentration. From a cautious distance, he surveys Kurapika’s face.

All it takes is a single look at Kurapika, and Leorio begins to understand why Melody has been so worried about him, to the extent that she somehow managed to cross over from the first tier to the third tier, just for the sole purpose of relaying her concerns to Leorio.

Kurapika’s eyes, faintly scarlet behind the black contacts he wears, look more strained than Leorio has ever seen them. And while Kurapika stares forward at the TV with a determined expression, his breathing seems labored, and the arm he’s holding out is trembling.

That mysterious sense of dread, which Leorio felt when Melody asked him to check in with Kurapika, returns with a vengeance, expanding horribly in his chest.

Leorio swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Nevertheless, he steps forward to address his friend. “Kurapika, I think you need a break.”

“Clear,” Kurapika says, and Mizaistom swiftly replaces the sheet with another.

Leorio touches Kurapika’s shoulder, and Kurapika looks up at him, startled.

“Did you hear me?” Leorio asks. “I said you should rest for a bit. You don’t look well.”

Kurapika lowers his arm, and the chains vanish. He rubs his eyes, which are now black again, no longer tinged with red.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Kurapika says. “Mizaistom, can you please give me a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Mizaistom responds. “Come get me when you’re ready to keep going.” Mizaistom retrieves the paper from the desk, inserts it into a file folder, then leaves the room.

Leorio glances over at Cheadle. “I’ll look after Kurapika for a bit,” he tells her.

“Fine,” Cheadle says, “but we’re going to start the meeting.”

“I’ll catch up later.”

Cheadle follows Mizaistom out. Once they’re alone, Kurapika takes off his blazer and hangs it over the back of a chair. Still trembling, he sinks down onto the seat. He rests his forehead on his palm and sighs.

Leorio sits on the chair next to his. “Should we head to the medical ward? I’ll tell the others you’re feeling sick.”

Kurapika is massaging his temples. “It’s fine. A minor headache, that’s all.”

“At least let me get you some pills.” 

Leorio stands up, but Kurapika grasps the back of his shirt.

“Just sit down, okay?” Kurapika says.

Leorio looks down at him, tentatively reaching out to rub his blond hair. “I want to help you feel better, Kurapika.”

“You are helping. I feel better when you’re beside me. That’s more than enough.”

A warmth spreads over Leorio’s chest as he hears these words. He sits down again.

“Leorio, what’s that in your hand?"

Leorio is shocked to realize that he’s still holding the doughnut from earlier. “Eh . . . a doughnut that Ginta gave me. Want it?”

Kurapika wrinkles his nose. “I don’t like sweet things.”

“Ah, this has too many sprinkles, I guess. Too many rainbows.”

“Leorio?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please touch my hair again? It felt nice.”

In response, Leorio crams the entire doughnut into his mouth, then rapidly rubs his hands together to rid them of sugar and sprinkles. Kurapika watches in amusement. 

Leorio starts to caress Kurapika’s hair again, his heart melting as Kurapika sighs in contentment, pushing his head against Leorio’s palm.

Kurapika shifts on his chair to lean back more comfortably, then suddenly winces.

Leorio pauses in his patting of Kurapika’s head. “Are you sure we shouldn’t stop by the medical ward? How about after the meeting?”

“I said it’s fine. Why did you stop touching my hair?”

Leorio chuckles. “So demanding.”

Kurapika closes his eyes as Leorio continues to stroke his hair. 

Leorio has a million questions for Kurapika, but he knows that his friend needs silence right now. He reins in all his questions, but asks them inside his head.

_Kurapika, what wild things are you doing there, up in the first tier? Are you being reckless? Are you thinking things through? Is anyone giving you a hard time? Do you want me to fight them for you? Why do you always look so tired? How can you look so effortlessly cute despite looking so tired? How is that fair? Hey, how can I help you feel even better? Can I kiss you later, when you’re feeling better? I can’t stop thinking about kissing you, so can I?_

Kurapika is nodding off now. Leorio pushes his own chair closer, intending to allow Kurapika to sleep on his shoulder like that one time in the medical ward stockroom. He is just about to gently reposition Kurapika’s head to rest on his shoulder, when he notices something that causes him to hesitate.

There’s a faint purplish bruising on Kurapika’s neck.

Despite the sudden twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach, Leorio leans in to more closely examine the bruises, which match the imprint of a hand. The outline of fingers.

Did someone . . . choke Kurapika?

Leorio’s eyes wander down and detect more bruises on his friend’s wrists, peeking out from beneath the cuffs of his button-down shirt.

“Hey, Kurapika.” Leorio’s voice, all of a sudden, doesn’t sound like his own.

Kurapika jerks out of his light doze. “Hmm? What is it?”

“Can I just check something? Don’t freak out, okay?”

Kurapika opens his eyes blearily. “Freak out? Why should I?”

Leorio starts to loosen Kurapika’s necktie, very slowly, so as not to brush against the bruises on his neck.

Kurapika’s eyes have fluttered closed again. “Now, Leorio?” he murmurs. “Can’t you just be patient?”

When Leorio begins to unbutton his shirt, Kurapika’s eyes fly open, suddenly alert.

“What are you doing? Wait —”

Kurapika attempts to grab Leorio’s wrists to stop him, but Leorio knocks away his hands and rips open his shirt, the last few buttons popping off.

Leorio stands over Kurapika, staring hard at his now exposed torso. Kurapika stares back at Leorio, frozen, eyes wide with terror.

There are overlapping bruises on Kurapika’s waist and hips, some reddish, some bluish, some also purple. Puncture wounds, seemingly caused by fingernails. And hickeys. Hickeys just everywhere, marring his skin. All these marks appear fresh, a few days old at most.

While Kurapika remains motionless, Leorio carefully lifts his wrists, tugging back the shirt cuffs to study the bruising there. Leorio grits his teeth as he sees fingernail wounds also marking both his wrists.

Leorio lowers Kurapika’s wrists. Leorio then gently peels his shirt over his shoulders to check his back. A prominent bite mark on Kurapika’s left shoulder makes Leorio flinch, but nothing — not a _goddamn_ thing — can prepare him for the sight of Kurapika’s back.

Leorio’s stomach turns as he witnesses angry red cuts — ragged, new, and deep enough that bloodstains bloom like spider lilies on the back of his white-button down, earlier concealed by his blazer.

“Kurapika, this . . . this looks really bad —”

Leorio’s voice seems to make Kurapika come back to himself. Kurapika yanks away from his hold and jumps to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor.

Hyperventilating, Kurapika backs away until he hits the wall behind him. He winces again, as his impact on the wall reminds him of the deep cuts on his back.

Leorio steps toward him, arms already reaching forward, wanting to take away his friend’s pain, somehow.

“Stay away!” Kurapika’s voice is harsh. “Don’t look! Forget you ever saw that!”

Leorio stops in his tracks, watching as Kurapika hastily buttons up. He’s shivering hard as he tucks down the portion of his shirt where the buttons have popped off.

“Should we talk about this?” Leorio asks, still standing a safe distance away. “If anyone is hurting you, or forcing you, I —”

“Stop. I said forget about it. I never want to talk or even _think_ about this ever again.”

Kurapika snatches his blazer from the floor and heads for the door. Leorio doesn’t attempt to stop him as he escapes from the room. 

Leorio just stands there, his thoughts all tumultuous. Black feelings are coiling and colliding inside him — shock, rage, anxiety, helplessness, a deep discomfort.

Kurapika’s wounds are most likely sexual in nature. As much as Leorio wishes to entertain alternatives, none come to mind. While Kurapika may be embroiled in a war against ten other factions, Leorio almost can’t imagine any opponent getting that close to his eternally over-competent and overconfident friend — marking him that badly — and getting away with it.

Of course, these marks may be consensual, indicative of some sort of sadomasochistic play or kink for rough sex. But even so, this is way too excessive! Does Kurapika’s partner — or partners — really need to manhandle his body this much? Wounds like these can get infected without proper medical treatment!

On the other hand, if Kurapika is being _forced_ into sex that violent. . . . Leorio can’t even finish this thought process. He’s too enraged.

Whichever the case, Leorio is furious with the nameless person or persons who broke Kurapika’s skin until he was left bleeding all over his shirt. 

Leorio really wishes he could talk to Kurapika about this. He wants to know everything. He wants to understand the specifics of the situation so that he can support and help his friend to the best of his ability. 

More than anything, Leorio is dying to hold Kurapika right now — very carefully, so that his bruises and wounds won’t hurt him.

When Kurapika finally reenters the room, Leorio is still standing at the exact same spot where he left him earlier.

Leorio’s fists are clenched at his sides, a thunderous expression on his face. Upon seeing the darkness there, Kurapika looks away at once.

Mizaistom enters the room behind Kurapika. He starts when he notices Leorio standing there, glaring at the floor as if wanting to punch it. He picks up the remote control for the TV and, keeping his eyes solely on Kurapika, asks him whether he’s ready to resume.

At the sound of Mizaistom’s voice, Leorio looks up in surprise, only now noticing that he’s no longer alone in the room. Leorio shuffles over to the corner and stands there, chewing on his thumb, obviously agitated.

Kurapika returns to his position over the desk, facing the TV. He speaks without looking at Leorio. “I can’t concentrate when there are too many people in the room. Leorio, you should go.”

Sighing heavily, Leorio walks toward the door, then turns back.

“At least sit down while you’re doing that,” Leorio tells Kurapika. “You still look sick. You might fall over and hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Kurapika says shortly. “Leave.”

Leorio leaves, shutting the door behind him.

Kurapika can tell that Mizaistom is curious about the sudden tension between them, but he won’t press Kurapika for details. Kurapika appreciates that Mizaistom respects his boundaries this way.

In stark contrast to Leorio. . . . Why did Leorio have to cross that line? Why did he have to find out like this?

Unbidden, Pairo’s voice speaks inside his head.

“Leorio is just worried about you, Kurapika,” Pairo is telling him. “Can you blame him? You push him and everyone else away. He’s only trying to see you for who you really are. He’s only trying to understand.”

“He should stop trying,” Kurapika silently replies to Pairo. “He’s not going to like what he sees. How can he, when I myself hate that vile person who stares back at me in the mirror?”

Mizaistom, who has been sorting through his file folder, places the next profile on the desk.

“Are you prepared to activate Emperor Time again?” Mizaistom asks.

Kurapika takes a deep breath, raises his right arm, and lets the Dowsing Chain dangle down once more. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, attempting to concentrate, trying to clear his mind of unrelated thoughts. . . .

Leorio, disgusted at the sight of his corrupted body. . . .

Leorio, backtracking, trying to disguise his newfound revulsion with a tone of sweet solicitude. . . .

Leorio, still pretending to care if he ever fell over, hurt himself, or even dropped dead. . . .

Amidst this reckless desperation — amidst this devastating sense of impending loss — Kurapika finds that he doesn’t even have to force the red tint over his vision. 

He opens his eyes, and the scarlet emerges of its own accord.

Kurapika has never hated himself as much as he hates himself right now.


	10. Fallen bodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Violent content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Leorio listens as the Zodiacs meander through increasingly futile ideas on how to extract the Hunter Association from the sinkhole of its involvement with the Kakin Empire. More and more, a further five-week pact to escort the Kakin royal family, mafia families, and elites — abiding by the whims of King Nasubi Hui Guo Rou all the while — appears inevitable. Judging by the insults now volleying back and forth across the table, not one of the Zodiacs is happy about this prospect.

Leorio drums his fingers on the table and continues to watch the closed door on the far side of the conference room. If Kurapika was only here, he could sort out this whole mess at the snap of his fingers, piping up with that effeminately appealing voice of his to silence the room with his cutting-edge insight. Leorio knows it. He’s seen it happen before.

But when Kurapika and Mizaistom finally join the Zodiac Twelve meeting, after about a half-hour’s worth of going through videos of suspected traitors, Kurapika doesn’t say a word. Seated next to Mizaistom despite the conspicuous vacancy to Leorio’s right, Kurapika doesn’t even glance up as Mizaistom acknowledges his efforts to the room. 

“Kurapika has assisted us in identifying a number of promising leads on the identity of the Hunter who betrayed us to Kakin,” Mizaistom is telling the others. “Botobai and I can check on the suspects after the meeting and update the rest of you at a later time.”

The other Zodiacs make appreciative comments — at least they got this _one_ thing accomplished, so the meeting wasn’t totally pointless. But Kurapika doesn’t seem to hear the approving words directed at him. He just stares down at the surface of the table, his cheek resting on his chained fist.

Leorio observes Kurapika’s sullen expression and wonders at the depths of Kurapika’s animosity toward him right now. Kurapika must be _furious_ at him, and for good reason. No matter how worried Leorio might have been about his friend’s mysterious bruises, he was still in the wrong for forcing his shirt open when he was barely awake. Kurapika even tried to stop Leorio’s hands from invading further, but Leorio just wouldn’t stop.

The moment that Cheadle declares the meeting a lost cause and officially ends it, Leorio leaps up and strides around the table. Weaving around as the other Zodiacs get to their feet, he practically has to elbow Mizaistom out of the way to prevent him from monopolizing Kurapika once again.

Leorio hovers anxiously behind Kurapika’s chair — dying to apologize, dying to help, dying to protect his friend from all the evils of the world. 

Kurapika, however, doesn’t stand up. Has he even realized that the meeting has ended?

Leorio looks around the conference room, empty now except for the last few stragglers by the exit, then leans down to check on Kurapika.

“Meeting’s over, Kurapika,” Leorio says. “Come on.”

Kurapika turns toward the sound of his voice, but there’s a lag before he seems to register that he’s looking at Leorio’s face.

“Leorio . . .? Favor, please?”

Leorio crouches next to his chair. “Anything, Kurapika. What is it?”

“Need help standing up. My embarrassing body isn’t listening to me.”

Leorio assists him, but Kurapika stumbles almost immediately, holding Leorio’s arm to steady himself. 

“Kurapika, maybe you should sit down again. I’ll help you sit down, okay?”

Leorio tries to guide him back down on the chair, but Kurapika resists.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just dizzy. Bit dizzy. Need a minute.”

There’s a babbling quality to Kurapika’s words. Leorio brushes the damp bangs from his forehead to study his face. Kurapika is paler than usual, breathing fast, sweating profusely.

Seeing Leorio’s eyebrows furrow with concern, Kurapika begins apologizing, all in a rush. “Leorio? I’m sorry, Leorio. I’m so sorry I’m like this.” He presses his face against Leorio’s uniform, still mumbling half-coherent apologies.

Kurapika’s grip on Leorio’s arm slides down as he finally loses consciousness. Having already recognized the warning signs for fainting, Leorio is quick to catch him before he can hit the floor. 

Swearing like a fiend, Leorio carries Kurapika and lays him down on the table. He’s trying to extract the blazer from Kurapika’s arms to allow him to cool down, but it’s difficult when he’s trying to avoid putting pressure on any of the hidden wounds and bruises, difficult when his own hands are trembling so much.

Leorio leans away for a second, wildly shaking his hands as he tries to expel the jitters. He slaps his own face with both of his palms, screaming internally at himself to calm down.

Didn’t Leorio already say that Kurapika looked sick? Didn’t he already worry that Kurapika would fall over? But that damn Mizaistom kept pushing him to continue searching for the traitor!

As if summoned by Leorio’s sheer irritation toward him, Mizaistom returns to the conference room at this moment, with Cheadle following closely behind. When he sees Kurapika lying unconscious on the table, Mizaistom says, “I was wondering what was taking Kurapika so long. Has he collapsed?”

And whose fault is that?! Leorio wants to yell.

When Mizaistom and Cheadle approach the table, Leorio stops trying to remove Kurapika’s blazer, knowing that his friend would not wish for anyone else to witness the bloodstains soaking the back of his shirt.

“Let’s take him to the medical ward,” Cheadle says. “It’s so close that we don’t even need to retrieve a stretcher.”

Mizaistom shakes his head. “No, we can’t bring Kurapika to the medical ward.”

“Why not?” Cheadle asks.

“There’s not enough time. He should be back at the 14th Prince’s quarters in thirty minutes. It should take about twenty minutes to get there from here.”

Cheadle crosses her arms over her chest. “You didn’t say anything about a time limit.”

“I didn’t think it would be an issue,” Mizaistom tells her. “To borrow Kurapika, I had to course my request through Queen Oito, mother of the 14th Prince, and the time limit was her condition. Kurapika is the strategic commander of the 14th Prince’s camp, so the queen seems particularly attached to him.”

“But isn’t this an exceptional circumstance?”

Mizaistom shakes his head again. “If we violate the condition and return him late now, it will be more difficult or even impossible to borrow him again if we need his abilities in the future.”

Argh! Why does Mizaistom keep talking about borrowing and returning Kurapika as if he’s some sort of object? 

Cheadle has opened her mouth to argue again, but Leorio interrupts their conversation at this point.

“We’re wasting time! I’ll go! I’ll bring Kurapika back to the 14th Prince’s quarters! I pushed for the meeting to happen, so it’s my fault he’s even here in the first place!”

Mizaistom’s response is infuriatingly calm. “We should assign an older Zodiac to this crucial task. The first tier is a war zone right now. Leorio, you could be fingered for a spy and slaughtered in seconds.”

It’s all Leorio can do not to blow up. This guy is looking down on him!

“I said I’m going!” Leorio says, his voice firm.

Leorio crouches by the table so that he can pull Kurapika onto his back and carry him piggyback-style. As he positions Kurapika’s arms over his shoulders, Leorio’s heart squeezes painfully as he notices how slight — how almost _insignificant_ — his friend’s weight is across his back.

Kurapika is so small that his body feels more like a strange bird of some endangered species, momentarily perching on Leorio’s broad shoulders as it braces itself to once again take flight. Just how much weight has he lost recently . . .?

More jittery than ever, Leorio marches out of the conference room, with both Mizaistom and Cheadle hot on his heels. 

Mizaistom is pulling out a sheet of paper from his file folder. Even as he walks briskly, he hurriedly scribbles something on the paper, folds it, then inserts it into the pocket of Leorio’s uniform.

“Present that note at the guard posts,” Mizaistom tells Leorio. “The guards of the ship should let you through. If they don’t, find a phone and dial the number I’ve included there. That should connect you to the political ward.”

Even though Leorio is still pissed at him, he has to acknowledge that getting Kurapika back to the first tier would be practically impossible without Mizaistom’s endorsement. He forces himself to mutter his thanks to Mizaistom.

“We’ll call the 14th Prince’s quarters ahead to inform them that Kurapika has collapsed and that someone is taking him back,” Cheadle says.

Leorio turns to her. “Cheadle, let me stay with Kurapika for a while in the 14th Prince’s quarters when I get there. At least until he’s healthy again.”

Cheadle nods. “I have no objections to that, but try to phone the medical ward when you get the chance. And Leorio?”

“Yeah?”

Cheadle’s expression is suddenly grave. “You chose to do this yourself, so you better do it right. Mizai and I won’t forgive you if you jeopardize Kurapika’s safety due to your own sense of pride. So be very, very careful.”

Leorio looks ahead again, speeding up his stride. “You don’t have to tell me that. I won’t forgive myself either if I allow any damn thing to ever hurt him again.”

Thanks to Mizaistom’s endorsement, Leorio manages to cross over from the third tier to the second tier without any fuss. As he approaches the guard post leading to the first tier, he’s wheezing a bit, having raced all the way there.

Leorio’s stamina isn’t the worst, really. He’s certainly not a stranger to surprise marathons consisting of endless and unknowable miles and miles. His recent chain-smoking habits have, however, weakened his lungs.

“Leorio, you shithead,” he’s chiding himself now. “Cheadle was right to lecture you about cigarettes all this time. You should listen to people smarter than you. You never learn!”

The ship guards standing by the entrance to the first tier briefly study Mizaistom’s note then wave Leorio through. The hallelujah chorus swelling in Leorio’s head peters out, however, when the guards refuse to give him directions. The instant Leorio mentions that he’s looking for the 14th Prince’s quarters, they all exchange dirty looks and refuse to engage with him any further.

“Ah, whatever!” Leorio fumes as he stomps away from their upturned noses. “I’ll find the blasted place myself!”

Should he turn right or left? He vaguely remembers a moment around two years ago, back in the Trick Tower during the third phase of the Hunter Exam, when Kurapika mentioned that turning right was generally the better option when finding oneself stuck in a maze. Even though his friend’s reasoning now escapes Leorio, he nevertheless decides to turn right.

He runs down the hallway for about a minute, then halts when he encounters two men wearing formal suits. They both turn at the sound of footsteps, immediately drawing pistols and pointing them at Leorio.

“Hold up!” Leorio says hastily. “I don’t want to fight! I’m not involved in this war! I’m just a member of the medical staff! Third tier! See the uniform?”

The man to the right lowers his gun. “Medical staff? Which camp needs medical attention?”

Remembering the ship guards’ sour expressions when he mentioned the 14th Prince, Leorio guesses that it’s a bad idea to bring that up again, so he chooses to avoid the question entirely. “Look, man. I’m just here to earn a living and do my rounds! There’s a nasty bug going around! Be careful that you don’t catch it, or you’ll be bedridden sneezing green snot for days!”

“Oh yeah?” the man to the right says. “Who’s that person you’re carrying then? Is he sneezing green snot all over your back too?”

The man to the left hasn’t lowered his pistol all this time. “This guy’s lying,” he warns his companion. “He can use Nen. I can sense it.”

The man to the right immediately starts to panic. “A Nen user?! Should we call for help?”

Leorio speaks up. “Hey, just because I can use Nen, doesn’t mean I want to use it to hurt you!”

The man to the left ignores Leorio’s protest. “No need to call for help. We can take him on ourselves. I may be a total beginner with Nen, but even I can sense the aura radiating from this guy. Based on what Kurapika from the 14th Prince’s camp said, this probably means that this guy isn’t skilled enough to conceal his own presence.”

“Wait, you know Kurapika?” Leorio asks. “Ah, that’s right! He taught you guys about Nen, didn’t he? Well, this person I’m carrying right now _is_ Kurapika! Since you know who he is, you’ll know that he’s harmless. Just give me a break, and let me go! I’m not looking for any trouble!”

Leorio’s words only seem to further antagonize the man to the left. “Hah?! That’s Kurapika?!” he demands, now brandishing his gun. “Just who are you calling harmless? Do you even realize how troublesome that brat has been? All the more reason for us to kill you both! Our prince will thank us for this!”

The man to the right raises his pistol again, but he still looks nervous.“Will guns even work on a Nen user?”

“Won’t hurt to try, right?” his companion scoffs.

Leorio sighs impatiently. “You two are impossible! I already tried talking, so don’t blame me when you’re flat on your backs, seeing stars!”

Leorio shifts Kurapika’s negligible weight on his back so that he can hold up his right fist. He’s concentrating, gathering aura in the clenched fingers of his hand, when a flurry of movement somewhere to his left makes him hesitate.

His jaw drops when he sees the identity of the person suddenly standing next to him. 

Hisoka?! Since when was Hisoka a passenger of the Black Whale?!

Leorio’s defensive priorities switch immediately — he begins to back away from Hisoka to ensure that Kurapika’s body isn’t exposed and vulnerable to the magician’s threat.

Hisoka isn’t looking at Leorio though. Facing the two men down the hallway, Hisoka flicks his right arm, letting the Shu-sharpened playing cards between his fingers fly.

There’s a nauseating _schlick,_ and the two men fall _splat_ down the floor.

Whistling, Hisoka approaches the corpses to dislodge the cards wedged deep inside their skulls. He stands there for a moment, admiring the wet crimson now coating his Ace of Diamonds and Two of Diamonds.

Hisoka then returns to Leorio’s side, smiling at him. “I know you wanted them flat on their backs, seeing stars, but diamonds are a suitably sparkly alternative, are they not? Shall we go then?”

Leorio is at a total loss at Hisoka’s appearance, seemingly out of thin air, plus his swift and brutal execution of the two men who were obviously frightened, so clearly out of their depth in this war. He sputters incoherently for a while before he manages to form actual words. “Go . . .? I’m not going with you anywhere, Hisoka!”

“We’re going to the same place, so you don’t have a choice, I’m afraid,” Hisoka tells him. “I’m allied with that friend of yours who’s straddling your back. The 14th Prince’s camp got a call from the third tier, and I volunteered to help you with your precious cargo.”

“Wait, _you’re_ a member of the 14th Prince’s camp? Kurapika never mentioned that!”

“I’m a recent addition. Let me carry Kurapika.” 

Hisoka holds out his arms as if waiting for Leorio to deposit Kurapika there, but Leorio backs away even more, still in defensive mode.

“Huh?! Why? Don’t you dare touch Kurapika! I can carry him fine!”

Hisoka lowers his arms. “You were clearly having trouble defending yourself without the full use of both your arms. You were even resorting to negotiation tactics to worm your way out of the situation. _Pitiful_ negotiation tactics, mind you. I heard that entire _fascinating_ conversation about the imaginary bug that causes you to sneeze green snot.”

“I could have taken care of them myself!” Leorio insists. “And I wouldn’t have needed to kill anyone to do it! Argh, why am I even wasting my time arguing with this clown?!”

Leorio starts to stalk off, but Hisoka calls out to him.

“Your youthful vigor is admirable, truly, but you’re going in the opposite direction, you know?”

Face flaming in embarrassment, Leorio turns on his heel to walk in the correct direction. Snickering, Hisoka falls into step beside him.

“Not so fast,” Hisoka says. “I’m not in my best condition, so at least match my pace. You might die and endanger your friend if you rush off ahead without me anyway.”

To check the time, Leorio glances down at Kurapika’s wrist resting on his chest. Because he ran all the way, there’s time to spare. He slows down, watching as Hisoka limps beside him.

“Why are you injured?” Leorio asks.

Hisoka smirks as he relishes some recent memory. “Ah, last night . . . I got carried away tussling with someone, so I’m _severely_ sore.”

“You . . . you’re still obsessed with finding and fighting the strongest opponents then?”

“Indeed.” Hisoka licks his lips. There’s an excited glint in his eyes. “This opponent was undoubtedly the _most delectable_ of them all _._ Worry not, I exacted my revenge this morning. I wore him out and scratched him up before I let him go.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst.”

As Hisoka looks over at him, the expression on his face abruptly shifts from excitement to curiosity. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it. . . .” Hisoka is musing. “Aside from Gon and Killua, those underage wonders . . . you’re Kurapika’s closest friend, aren’t you?”

What the hell is Hisoka going on about now? But that’s just the way Hisoka is, predictable only in his unpredictability.

“I’m probably Kurapika’s closest friend in the world!” Leorio declares. “Closer to him than Gon and Killua, even! So? So what?”

“Then could you be . . . _Kurapika’s friend?_ ” Hisoka starts to chuckle, seeming to remember something delightful. “I see. So this is _Kurapika’s friend_. Huh, you’re not at all what I expected.”

Leorio watches, incensed, as Hisoka continues to laugh. What is Hisoka even laughing about? Why does this weirdo keep calling him _Kurapika’s friend_ like it’s some sort of twisted inside joke?

“You’ve already forgotten my name?” Leorio demands. “We’ve met before, Hisoka! We were batch mates at the Hunter Exam! The name’s Leorio! Le-o-ri-o! Don’t forget it again!”

Hisoka flashes a mischievous smile. “Why, yes. Leorio, _Kurapika’s friend_. I haven’t forgotten, believe me. During the exam, I encountered you twice while you were by Kurapika’s side. The first time, I sucker-punched your face when you dared to challenge me, while Kurapika took the prudent route and bolted. I then carried your knocked-out body all the way to the exam’s second phase, which was very sweet of me. The second time we met —”

Leorio is mortified as these unflattering memories involving Hisoka come flooding back. “Never mind! Forget my name and the fact that I ever existed!”

“Well, there’s no way I can forget you. Especially now. Ah, here we are.”

They’re finally at the entrance to the 14th Prince’s quarters. Sighing in relief, Leorio is about to open the door, when Hisoka suddenly grabs his outstretched arm.

Leorio looks at him in shock. All of a sudden, Hisoka is leaning in, up close and personal, to survey Leorio’s face.

Too damn close! Does this clown have no sense of boundaries?!

Leorio stands his ground, staring indignantly at Hisoka’s inquisitive expression.

“So it’s this kind of face, huh.” Hisoka’s voice is soft. “What’s so special about this particular face?”

The arms around Leorio’s shoulders suddenly twitch, and he feels a chained hand brushing over his neck.

Leorio looks over his shoulder and sees that Kurapika is awake. Kurapika is glaring at Hisoka, his black contacts flecked dangerously with scarlet. 

The chains wrapped over Kurapika’s fingers rustle against Leorio’s neck. Leorio holds his breath as the cold metal grazes his Adam’s apple.

Hisoka lifts his hand from Leorio’s arm and takes a giant step backward. He raises both of his arms, as if to surrender.

Kurapika’s tone is menacing. “Hisoka, touch Leorio again and I’ll take your fucking arm off.”

Hisoka only smiles in return. “I won’t, I won’t. I’ve experienced losing my arm before. It wasn’t pleasant.”

“Stand within kissing distance from Leorio again and I’ll rip your tongue out.”

Hisoka snickers. “Scary. I enjoy using my tongue in all sorts of places and for all sorts of purposes, so I won’t risk losing it for this, I promise.”

The chains then vanish, and Leorio exhales in surprise as a soft impact hits his nape. He can feel Kurapika breathing evenly against his skin once more.

Leorio tries to twist his head around to check on his friend. “Kurapika! Hey, are you okay?”

“He’s just fainted again,” Hisoka says. “Wonder if he was able to deactivate it this time around?”

“Deactivate . . .?”

“Well now, wasn’t that interesting.”

Grinning as if he’s just been treated to the best game in the world, Hisoka pushes open the door to the 14th Prince’s quarters.


	11. Prospect of decapitations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

“Leorio?”

The moment he hears the weak voice calling his name, Leorio jerks awake from where he’s been slumped over on a chair by the bed. Wiping the drool leaking from the corner of his own mouth, he leans attentively toward Kurapika. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Leorio asks him.

Kurapika is rubbing his dark eyes and trying to sit up, but Leorio pushes him down against the pillows again, with all the gentleness he can muster.

“Just lie down,” Leorio says. “Let me check your temperature again.”

Leorio attempts to stick a thermometer into his ear, but Kurapika suddenly panics and slaps away his hand.

“No! Not there!”

“Okay, okay.” Leorio bends over, scrambling for the fallen thermometer.

Obviously embarrassed by his own outburst, Kurapika feigns a sense of composure. “In any case, no need to check my temperature. I feel perfectly fine. If I had a fever, it must have broken by now.” Kurapika glances down at his wrist. “Where’s my watch?”

“Oh, I took it off when I was wiping you down with a washcloth.” Leorio opens a drawer by the bed to retrieve the watch that he set aside earlier.

Kurapika narrows his eyes. “Then . . . you saw my body again? I’m surprised you could tolerate such a repulsive sight more than once.”

Leorio looks up from the drawer. “Kurapika, about that . . . I wanted to say sorry. I shouldn’t have ripped your shirt open. I shouldn’t have forced you to show me. That wasn’t okay. And I’m sorry.”

“You’re saying sorry, but do you really mean it? Ugh . . . you even looked at that disgusting thing again while I was sleeping.”

Leorio sighs. “If you’re angry about last time, I can accept that. But I had to do it this time around. The wounds on your back were severe. I had to clean and bandage your cuts and change your shirt.”

“I was going to heal those wounds with the Holy Chain anyway. I was just tired back then. I had to save enough energy to use the Dowsing Chain for the Zodiacs.” Kurapika holds out his hand. “Give me my watch.”

When Leorio returns the watch, Kurapika checks the time, then squints in confusion. “Damn, how long was I out this time around?”

This time around? Has Kurapika been blacking out again lately . . .?

Leorio wants to yell in frustration, but he forces himself to keep his voice level as he tells Kurapika how long he’s been unconscious.

Kurapika’s eyes widen. “An entire day? Then the nominal ceremonies. . . .”

“Yeah, the others are getting ready to —”

To Leorio’s infinite horror, the person in front of him is, quite suddenly, a blur. Kurapika has leapt off the bed — right over where Leorio’s body is hunched beside it — and has bolted out of the employees’ bedroom.

Heart pounding, Leorio springs from his chair and chases after him. What the hell is Kurapika thinking?! He’s going to make himself fall over again!

By the time Leorio manages to catch up, Kurapika is indeed falling over again. Hisoka, standing in the middle of the living room, steadies his body before he can crash to the floor.

Still being held upright by Hisoka, Kurapika looks wildly around at the other guards standing in the living room. They all stare back at him, shocked that he’s even up.

Kurapika’s tone is urgent. “Prince Woble? Queen Oito? Where are they? Are they safe?”

Melody is the first to recover from her surprise. “Shimano is helping them prepare, then we’re leaving for the nominal ceremonies at the New Continent soon after.”

Looking extremely disheveled, Kurapika flails around uselessly, even as Hisoka maintains his hold around his waist. “Ah, damn it. I — I should get ready too. Where’s my gun . . .?”

Leorio takes Kurapika from Hisoka’s arms and helps him over to the sofa. Leorio then crouches, forcing Kurapika to meet his eyes.

“Listen to me, Kurapika. You’re not going anywhere. You’re sick. You’re staying right here with me so you can recover. Dr. Leorio’s orders!”

Hanzo pumps his fist, energized now. “Yeah, tell him, Dr. Leorio! Kurapika, your stubborn ass should just learn to lie down when it needs to lie down! That’s what I’ve been saying all this time!”   


Bill nods sagely. “You know, Kurapika, Hanzo might have been giving you the silent treatment for days now, but he _has_ been saying that to me, over and over and over again. I’m actually sick of hearing about it.”

Melody looks at Kurapika with pity as the others gang up on him. “As you already know, we’re only staying for the duration of the nominal ceremonies anyway. Just for a few hours. Then once the general public disembarks, the Kakin royal family, mafia families, elites, and Hunters will all board the Black Whale again to move forward to the Dark Continent.”

“I’m going, and that’s final,” Kurapika says firmly. “The nominal ceremonies will be a battlefield. It will be the first time that many of the princes will see each other again, after such a long time apart — there’s no way that blood won’t be spilled. The 14th Prince’s camp needs all the defensive force that it can get.”

“You’re in no condition to even stand up with your own strength, let alone defend anyone!” Leorio says, his voice fierce. “Stop acting so tough!”

Kurapika jerks his head irritably. “I’m not acting tough. I’ve been asleep for an entire goddamn day. I’ve had all the rest that I need.”

Hisoka, who has moved to stand beside the sofa, reaches down to mess with Kurapika’s already messy hair. Kurapika glares up at Hisoka, but doesn’t push his hand away.

Hisoka smiles down at him. “Ah, you look just like a wounded little animal. How charming. But worry not, dear boy. This psychopathic killer clown will be accompanying the 14th Prince’s camp. With my assistance, I can assure you that all the other princes will be fortunate indeed to survive the ceremonies. I foresee a peerless spectacle — a row of heads falling clean off their shoulders.”

There’s an awkward silence as the others wonder whether they should look cheerful about the prospect of decapitations.

Kurapika, however, appears to calm down once he hears about Hisoka’s intention to escort the 14th Prince’s camp. “You’re really going, Hisoka?”

“I’m really going.”

Kurapika settles back on the sofa, relaxing now. “Then I suppose I can leave it to you. But if even a single hair on Prince Woble’s or Queen Oito’s heads is harmed, I swear to God. . . .”

“I’ll protect them, so stop straining your own head worrying about them. You’ll give that pretty little brain of yours an aneurysm.”

Bill speaks up, his voice tentative. “Um, Kurapika. . . .”

There’s a significant delay before Kurapika slides his gaze from Hisoka’s face to Bill’s. “What?”

“Can you please ask the clown to protect every single hair on the employees’ heads as well?” Noticing Hanzo’s expression of utter disgust, Bill quickly amends his request. “And ask the clown to protect Hanzo’s bald head!”

“I don’t need anyone’s protection!” Hanzo roars. “Least of all Hisoka’s!”

Kurapika waves his chained hand dismissively. “Better protect them all then, Hisoka. You know what’s at stake.”

Hisoka speaks his next words very softly, perhaps intending for only Kurapika to hear them. “You won’t touch me again if I fail you, I know.”

Leorio, however, also hears Hisoka’s words. Still crouching by Kurapika’s side, Leorio’s blood runs cold as the realization hits him, and several things, which should have been glaringly obvious long before this moment, finally fall into place.

Leorio plops down on the sofa next to Kurapika, making it a point to knock away Hisoka’s hand from where it’s still resting on Kurapika’s shoulder, after messing so shamelessly with his hair.

Ignoring the noise of Hanzo’s and Bill’s bickering, Leorio crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at his lap, thunderous thoughts now storming inside his head. . . .

The reason that Hisoka, despite his injury, came to help Leorio protect Kurapika in the first place.

The way Hisoka and Kurapika seem strangely uninhibited around each other, even though the others are visibly uncomfortable simply being in Hisoka’s presence. 

The wounds on Kurapika’s back, so ragged and deep that they made Leorio, even with his medical training, recoil as he treated them. Given Hisoka’s notoriously violent streak, the degree of mutilation makes perfect sense. Leorio now remembers what Hisoka was telling him about scratching up a “most delectable” opponent.

With all that being said, Leorio seriously doubts that Hisoka coerced Kurapika into anything. The way they just interacted seems to contradict this theory — Kurapika spoke to Hisoka in a commanding tone, as if already used to getting his way, while Hisoka responded in a surprisingly subservient manner.

Even so, even if Hisoka most likely didn’t force Kurapika into a sexual relationship, the mere fact that Hisoka — known perverted murderer with an unquenchable thirst for blood — is Kurapika’s partner is disturbing enough.

Leorio turns to glare at Hisoka. As it turns out, however, Hisoka is already staring at him. When their eyes meet, Hisoka winks.

Leorio’s eyes pop. That damn Hisoka! He knows! He knows that Leorio heard what he said! No, he _wanted_ Leorio to hear what he said!

Hisoka observes, with apparent delight, as Leorio’s face flushes maroon with suppressed rage. Hisoka breaks eye contact, however, when Kurapika addresses him again.

“Hisoka, leave 4th Prince Tserriednich alone for now. I’ll take care of him myself later.” Kurapika pauses to rub his chin, contemplating, before he glances up at Hisoka again. “Don’t touch 9th Prince Halkenburg either. He may be useful to me at some point. All the other princes are fair game, but aim for the elder princes first, where possible.”

Hisoka bows with a flourish. “As you wish.”

Kurapika beckons to him. “Come closer. I need to tell you something important.” 

Hisoka bends over to allow Kurapika to practically breathe his next words into his ear.

“If you happen to see any of those _critters_ . . . those wretched _scum_ of the earth. . . .” Kurapika says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Give them hell for me. Promise me, Hisoka.”

Kurapika flicks Hisoka’s ear with his chained fingers, and Hisoka straightens up, smirking. 

“I was going to do that anyway,” Hisoka tells him. “But I can promise to try to bring back their heads as souvenirs for you — humble tokens to help you through your recovery.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Having silently listened to this ominous exchange between Kurapika and Hisoka, Leorio can’t help but shiver. Just what is the relationship between these two . . .?

Leorio is nervously watching his friend’s face, but before he can dwell on anything he just heard any further, he is distracted as Queen Oito and Shimano finally emerge from the queen’s bedroom, with 14th Prince Woble nestled in her mother’s arms.

Kurapika’s ruthless expression instantly softens. He tries to push himself up from the sofa, but the queen hurries to his side, telling him not to get up on her account. The queen asks him worriedly whether he’s feeling any better, but Kurapika brushes her concerns aside to apologize for not being in the proper condition to accompany and to protect the 14th Prince’s camp.

“Please keep everything I’ve taught you this past week at the forefront of your mind.” Kurapika’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle. “You’ve trained well, so I have complete and utter confidence in you.”

The queen nods, a determined expression in her eyes.

As everyone gets ready to leave, conducting their last-minute preparations, Kurapika calls Hisoka to his side for the final time. 

“Hisoka, those other matters I brought up earlier . . . simply think of them as bonuses. You have two main priorities. First, protect the 14th Prince’s camp. Second, don’t get caught doing anything illegal or unsavory. I haven’t heard great things about Kakin’s justice system, so don’t risk anything unless you’re 99.9% certain you can get away with it. Got that?”

Hisoka only snickers. “Don’t tell me you’re actually worried about me? You worry about enough bullshit without adding me into the mix. You know I can take care of myself. It’s everyone else you should be worried about.”

Kurapika silently regards him for a bit. “You’ve become a crucial asset to the 14th Prince’s camp. I can’t afford to lose you now.”

The others are already walking out the doorway by this point, but Hisoka lingers to ask Kurapika a question. “You don’t hate me anymore, then?”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “I don’t hate you any more today than usual, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Hisoka chuckles. “You don’t remember, do you? You briefly woke up from your most recent fainting spell to issue sweet threats to amputate me.”

Kurapika furrows his brows. “Did I? That _does_ sound like me, but. . . .”

“At that moment, you _truly_ hated me. You were ready to kill me, even. Your eyes told me so. You were wearing your contacts, but I could tell.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and Kurapika is suddenly covering his face with his hands, trembling violently.

Alarmed by the abrupt shift in Kurapika’s mood, Leorio reaches out, wanting to hold him, but hesitates at the last second, not knowing where the two of them stand right now.

“I see,” Kurapika is mumbling against his hands. “So it’s like this. I fucking messed up again. I’m always messing up this badly.”

“I’ve already forgiven you, but can you forgive yourself for cocking it up like this?”

At the sight of Hisoka smiling sadistically down at Kurapika’s trembling body, Leorio reaches his boiling point. He jumps to his feet and shoves Hisoka away with all his strength, feeling gratified when the force of his push actually causes the clown to stumble.

“Get the hell out of here!” Leorio snarls. “Hurt Kurapika again and I’ll break that smile of yours in half!”

Hisoka’s smile only widens at the threat, “I’m going, I’m going. _Adieu,_ friends.”

Hisoka is cackling as he _finally_ follows the others out, swinging the door shut behind him.

Leorio turns his attention toward Kurapika. His friend has lowered his hands from his face, but he’s still shaking, still besieged by an unfathomable panic.

Leorio sits down, then very carefully reaches for one of Kurapika’s hands. When Kurapika doesn’t pull away, Leorio moves the hand to his lap, soothingly rubbing it with both of his own.

After his shivering has subsided somewhat, Kurapika finally speaks up. “Leorio, I . . . I need to ask you something.” Leorio holds his breath, waiting for the worst, but Kurapika’s question is not what he expects. “What did my eyes look like when I woke up?”

“Um. Tired, I guess?”

“The color, I mean,” Kurapika clarifies. “I’m wearing my contacts, but you can tell when the color changes, right?”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

“Were my eyes . . . scarlet when I woke up?”

Leorio senses a mysterious weight to this question. Even though he can’t fully comprehend the magnitude of what his friend is really asking, he endeavors to answer as accurately as possible. “No, your eyes were definitely black. Not red in any way.”

“Are you sure?”

“100% sure,” Leorio says, continuing to massage Kurapika’s hand.

Kurapika blows out a shaky breath, somewhat relieved, somewhat still uncertain.

“Speaking of your eyes,” Leorio says, “doesn’t it strain them when you wear your contacts all the time? You don’t need to wear them when you’re just with me, right?”

“Do you want me to remove them?” Even as Kurapika says this, he’s already pulling his hand away to extract his contact lens case from his pocket. He seems used to being asked.

“I just want your eyes to rest,” Leorio says, all the while internally cursing at himself for asking something that made Kurapika take his hand away. He just wants to hold Kurapika’s hand again, damn it!

After Kurapika removes his contacts, Leorio leans in to observe his friend’s regular eye color, which he hasn’t had the chance to see in so long. As Leorio admires the hue of the irises, he notices the pupils dilate somewhat.

“You know, I almost forgot how pretty your eyes are,” Leorio murmurs. He can feel himself smiling, though he’s not sure why. “Brown. Same color as mine, but different. So woodsy. So _warm._ ”

Kurapika’s eyes widen, and Leorio sees them flutter scarlet for just a nanosecond.

Before Leorio can even blink, Kurapika has closed the distance between them.

The hand that Leorio was dying to hold is suddenly curled around his nape, and Kurapika’s mouth is suddenly on his. The shocking softness of lips, sighing against his own, wipes Leorio’s mind blank.

Kurapika is kissing him! _Kurapika is kissing him!_

Praise the heavens! Leorio has been dreaming about this, and it’s finally happening!

Leorio’s heart is hammering as he gently wraps his arms around Kurapika’s waist, trying to pull him even closer. But almost instantly, Kurapika is pulling away, looking alarmed.

“Shit. I — Leorio, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I — I wasn’t thinking.” Kurapika is shaking his head hard, as if trying to clear it.

“Hey, don’t be sorry. Come here, I want to do it again.”

Leorio leans in, but Kurapika presses a palm to his chest to stop him from going further. “Don’t. It’s disgusting.”

Leorio leans away at once, stung. “Oh. Okay. Do I . . . do I taste bad? I knew it, I’m smoking too much.”

“No! I wasn’t talking about you. Leorio, I — I like the way you taste. I actually prefer it a little bitter, so there’s no way that it’s you. You can never be disgusting. It’s —”

Leorio sighs, frustrated now. “Kurapika, please don’t call yourself disgusting again. _Please._ I’m actually begging you.”

Taken aback, Kurapika just stares.

“It’s been bothering me all this time. Do you seriously think that about yourself? How can you think that, when I like this — all of it, everything — so goddamn much?” Leorio frantically gestures his hands, indicating Kurapika’s entire body.

“You . . . _like_ this?”

Leorio groans impatiently. “ _How_ can I not like it?! When you were kissing me and I got to hold your body — even for just a few seconds — I thought my head was going to blow up!”

“Oh . . . which head of yours was going to blow up?”

“Kurapika! You’re _teasing_ me right now? I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Sorry, I’ll stop. It’s just that. . . .” Kurapika trails off, furrowing his brows. He seems genuinely puzzled.

“What, you still don’t believe me?” Leorio takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he wants to say next. “Show me then. Show it to me again. Please open your shirt for me, Kurapika. Please let me see your body.”

For a minute, Kurapika just looks at him silently. “You really want to see _that_ again?” he says eventually.

“I’m asking, aren’t I? If you want to show me, then I’d love to see it.”


	12. Nightmares in another skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

With an expression of utmost professional curiosity, Leorio examines the exposed skin of Kurapika’s torso. 

Kurapika leans back on the sofa, permitting his friend to poke and prod him. Leorio’s hands are large and rough, but his touch is gentle, his fingers surveying skin ever so softly, as if terrified of accidentally tearing it or discoloring it any further.

In the absolute silence of the living room, so quiet that he can hear the ticking of his watch as he toys with random tufts of his own hair, Kurapika observes the clinical gaze now observing him. Brown eyes, espresso with only the slightest dollop of cream. When Leorio pointed out that they shared this same color, was that what made Kurapika give in? 

Kurapika is not a stranger to losing control — in fact, he loses his composure too often these days — but he rarely ever allows a second’s impulsion to break an ironclad rule that he himself has set. There are conditions that he can never permit himself to violate, after all. The Stake of Retribution poised to pierce his own heart is a constant reminder of this inescapable truth.

He watches as Leorio charts his every blemish and break and imperfection with inquisitive fingertips. This is just like a physical examination in a doctor’s office, isn’t it? Perhaps Kurapika won’t mind collapsing so often if Leorio is the physician assigned to pick up the pieces. Just as he’s musing over this, his prospective physician starts trailing kisses over his skin.

Hearing Kurapika gasp, Leorio stops to check on his face. “No good?” Leorio asks him.

In response, Kurapika pulls Leorio in again, impatient for more contact. He feels Leorio smile against his skin before continuing to rain kisses over his abdomen, his waist, his chest — always cautious to avoid exerting pressure on any of the wounds or bruises. 

When he reaches Kurapika’s shoulders, Leorio repeatedly glances upward at his face.

“What is it?” Kurapika asks. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” 

“Want to kiss your mouth again.”

Leorio leans in for a kiss, but Kurapika clamps a hand over Leorio’s puckered lips. “Not there,” Kurapika tells him. “Anywhere but the mouth is fine, okay?”

“But we already. . . .” Leorio mumbles against Kurapika’s hand.

“Forget it ever happened. I’m not doing that again.”

Leorio leans away, then fixes Kurapika with a serious expression.

“Is it because of Hisoka?” Leorio says. “Is that why I can’t kiss you there?”

Kurapika smacks his own face with a palm. “Urgh . . . you heard what he said earlier then? That Hisoka, always stirring up trouble this way. . . .”

“Well, I heard what he said, _then_ I had to listen to the two of you flirting over decapitated heads. . . .”

Kurapika looks at him, incredulous. “I — I wasn’t flirting . . .!”

“You’re not going to deny the part about the decapitated heads . . .?”

“I was just meeting Hisoka halfway, Leorio. To get the point across to a murderer, you need to talk like a murderer.”

“Was that what it was? You know what, never mind. Here’s what I really want to know. If Hisoka hadn’t opened his big mouth back then, would you have told me on your own? That you and Hisoka are, um . . . that you two. . . .”

When Leorio can’t go on, Kurapika sighs and decides to help him out. “Would I have told you on my own that Hisoka and I are fucking? Is that what you’re asking?”

Leorio is sulking now, as if Kurapika has just crushed his last hope of that particular suspicion being pure speculation. “Fine. Yes. That’s what I’m asking.”

Kurapika takes a few seconds to think about it. “In an alternate universe where Hisoka isn’t as determined to be as obvious and as obnoxious as possible . . . probably not. I would never admit to it, no.”

“You don’t trust me?” Leorio asks.

“It has nothing to do with trust. I just wouldn’t want to involve you in that whole mess with Hisoka. It’s too fucked up.”

“Are you, like, _in love_ with Hisoka or something? Are you secret boyfriends?”

Kurapika groans. “God, no. Don’t even say it. You’re going to make me puke. That’s never going to happen. It’s not like that between us.”

“Friends with benefits then?”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “Friends with benefits? Wouldn’t that term more accurately apply to the both of us?” 

Kurapika is startled when Leorio actually looks offended by this suggestion. He decides to keep talking before Leorio has a chance to protest. “No, I wouldn’t even call Hisoka my friend in the first place,” Kurapika says quickly. “What Hisoka and I have . . . it’s more like a mutual agreement to wreck each other, I suppose?”

Leorio is suitably sidetracked. “Wreck each other . . .?”

“We have an unspoken pact to physically, mentally, and emotionally torment each other. It started about a year ago. I already ended it. I moved on. But then he suddenly reappeared — _poof_ , like a magic trick I never wanted or asked for. Before I knew it, we were back on our bullshit antics once again.”

As Leorio silently absorbs this information for a minute, Kurapika observes all the fluctuations of his emotions. Kurapika doubts that he will ever stop being fascinated by Leorio’s innate expressiveness, so different from his own practiced poker face.

Leorio finally speaks. “So . . . this whole _wrecking_ business. Is it like . . . a kink? Hisoka gets off on that? He enjoys hurting you like this?” He gestures toward Kurapika’s body.

“I said it was mutual. If I look like this right now, then you should see the state of Hisoka’s body.”

Leorio gapes. “Eh . . . this bad, then?”

Kurapika shrugs. “Worse, probably. He has a knack for psychological torture, and since I haven’t the faintest idea what makes him tick, I pay him back the only way I know.” Kurapika cocks his head to the side as he watches Leorio’s wide-eyed expression. “Do you find me disgusting yet? You can still change your mind, you know.”

Leorio shakes his head. “I’m just trying to understand, Kurapika. What do you even get out of something like that? Hurting Hisoka and having him hurt you like that?”

“What do I get out of it? It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“No? I mean, I’m asking because I honestly want to know.”

“Sex, of course. I do it for the sex.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Leorio says, “Sex? That’s it?”

Kurapika folds his arms over his chest. “What, you don’t believe I could want sex for the sake of it? You already know how many partners I’ve had.”

Leorio frowns. “Listen, Kurapika. If all you want is sex, why get it from Hisoka? Of all damn people in the world!”

“It’s not like I have a whole array of options on this ship, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Leorio throws up his hands in frustration. “Argh! You’re really going to make me say it?! Forget about Hisoka! Pick me instead! Just ask _me_ for sex, jeez!”

Silence follows Leorio’s grand show of heated emotion. Kurapika allows a minute or two to pass for Leorio to take back his words, but he doesn’t.

“Do you really mean that?” Kurapika finally says. “I can ask _you_ for sex?”

Leorio thumps a fist to his chest. “Ask me for sex any time! I’d be honored!”

“Then . . . right now?”

Leorio flusters. “Oh, maybe not right now. You’re too weak to do anything strenuous! You should recover first! Ah, that’s right! Aren’t you hungry? Maybe it’s time for you to eat!”

Leorio is just about to stand up, when Kurapika suddenly grabs both of his calves, yanking him to a lying position on the sofa.

Before Leorio knows it, Kurapika has settled above his lap. Even as Leorio’s mind reels from the sudden switch in the situation — the literal shift in his perspective of the room — his body is quick to react, dick twitching up instantly at the welcome warmth over his crotch.

Leorio stares up at Kurapika in utter shock. “How can you be _this_ strong when you’re still sick . . .?”

“Because I’m hungry,” Kurapika says. “It’s time for me to eat.”

Kurapika reaches down to lower Leorio’s pants, but hesitates when Leorio starts shaking his head wildly.

“Wait, Kurapika. Wait.”

“Wait? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to do this right now.”

Kurapika pulls up Leorio’s pants again. “If you say so. Still, I feel bad for leaving you like this. You’re already so hard.”

“How can I not be super hard when you’re grinding on top of me?!”

Kurapika smiles sheepishly. “Ah, I’m not trying to grind on you, honestly. I’m . . . I’m actually trying to get off, but I think my legs just gave way again. Seems like my legs only now remembered that they were supposed to be tired. . . .”

“How is that even possible?! How did you even get on top of me in the first place?!”

Kurapika shrugs. “I have no idea. Adrenaline rush?”

“Wha —?! What is even triggering an adrenaline rush right now?!”

Kurapika is staring down at Leorio’s body, the hunger apparent in his eyes. “You said that I can ask you for sex, right? Guess my body just moved on its own. Guess I got really excited and couldn’t stop myself.”

“Look, you’re excited, I get it! You couldn’t stop yourself, I get it! But it’s no good right now! We can’t!”

Kurapika finally looks at Leorio’s face again. “I understand. No means no. Just let me get off you, okay?”

“Wait!” Leorio gasps, holding Kurapika’s legs still. “Stop trying to get off me! Those movements you’re making as you’re trying to dismount . . . they’re killing me! They’re way too intense! I’m the one in danger of getting overexcited here!”

Kurapika stops moving. “I’m sorry, Leorio. Does it hurt? Am I hurting you?”

“It’s okay. Don’t feel bad. It’s not your fault your legs gave way again.” Leorio starts to rub Kurapika’s leg to comfort him. “Just give me a second to calm down, okay? Then I can lift you off me when I’m ready.”

“Why not lift me off you now? Isn’t it worse when I’m sitting on you like this?”

“I can’t risk adding any more friction by moving too much. If I cream myself down there, I’d just die of embarrassment. . . .”

Leorio sighs and closes his eyes, still absently stroking Kurapika’s leg as he waits for his own overheated body to cool down. As Leorio’s hand continues to wander, it brushes against something stiff under Kurapika’s trousers.

Leorio’s eyes fly open, and he jerks up his head to stare between Kurapika’s legs.

“Ah, Kurapika! Aren’t you. . . . Isn’t that. . . .” 

“What, you just noticed? Of course I’m hard. I was hard the moment I got on top of you. What did you think I meant when I told you I was excited . . .?”

Swift as can be, Leorio sits up and lifts Kurapika from his body to set him down on the sofa again. He then slides as close as possible to Kurapika and looks at him with an intense expression.

“What?” Kurapika asks, more than a little weirded out.

“I can kiss you anywhere except your mouth, right? You said that, didn’t you? Can I kiss you _here_ then?” Leorio stares down at Kurapika’s erection.

“ _There?_ Leorio, you don’t have to force —”

“Kurapika! I’m not forcing myself! Please let me taste you too! It’s unfair that you’re the only one who gets to taste!”

Sighing, Kurapika begins to unbuckle his belt.

Leorio stops his hands. “Wait! I want to do that. Can I?”

Kurapika leans back, watching as Leorio unbuckles and unzips for him. Leorio tugs the trousers down a bit, then looks at Kurapika again for permission.

“I want to pull your pants all the way off. Think your legs can take that?”

When Kurapika nods, Leorio carefully peels off his trousers and sets them neatly aside. He runs his palms over Kurapika’s bare legs, excited by the sight.

“Damn, your legs are so pretty. Every part of you is pretty, Kurapika.”

“Don’t be so sure. You haven’t checked this part yet.” Kurapika points down at his boner.

Leorio settles on the floor between Kurapika’s legs then slowly slides off his boxers. His jaw drops as Kurapika’s erection pops free.

Oh. Wow.

Leorio only realizes how long he’s been staring, open-mouthed, when he actually drools a bit on Kurapika’s thigh. Mortified, he rapidly wipes off the saliva from his jaw and from Kurapika’s leg.

Luckily, Kurapika isn’t in the mood for laughter. “Why do you look so shocked? Don’t tell me you were expecting something else down there. . . .”

“Eh . . . kind of? It’s . . . way bigger than I expected.”

“Ah, I see. You thought it would be small and cute, just like me.”

“You know what, scratch that. I subconsciously expected this. You’re short, but you’re overconfident, which can only mean —”

Leorio is promptly rewarded with a playful bop to the head. As Leorio’s head dips down from the impact, he hurriedly begins to lick Kurapika’s cock. He feels gratified when he hears the surprised intake of breath above him.

Because it’s Leorio’s first time giving a blow job, he tries to remember all the things that Kurapika was doing to him back in the medical ward stockroom. How to move his lips and tongue, where to put his hands, the appreciative sighs, the eye contact. 

He places Kurapika’s right hand on top of his head. Because there’s not much to grab at, Kurapika just strokes the short dark hair while Leorio continues to blow him.

For the next part . . . oh, the deep-throat portion. Is Leorio even ready for that step?

Leorio is trying to do it as slowly as possible, taking Kurapika’s length gradually into his throat, microinch by microinch, when he hears Kurapika sigh heavily. It’s not a sound of pleasure.

Kurapika’s tone is exasperated. “You’re not really trying to recreate everything I did to you last time? Come on. Just take it easy for your first time.”

Leorio withdraws, already feeling his eyes start to water. “You noticed?”

“I go through a list of techniques when I’m sucking someone off for the first time, so I remember the order.”   


Leorio starts to jerk him off with his hand. “I was bad at it, wasn’t I?”

Kurapika smiles at him, continuing to rub his hair. “No, you were amazing. So cute. So eager to please. Enthusiasm is the biggest turn-on, you know?”

“But you didn’t. . . .”

Kurapika shakes his head. “Leorio, that wasn’t because of anything you did or didn’t do. It’s just hard for me to get off unless I’m an active participant during sex.”

“Active, huh?” Leorio thinks about this for a second. “Oh, do you . . . do you want to thrust? Fuck my mouth like I did to you last time?”

“Just how excited are you to choke on my dick?! I’ll go completely soft if you throw up on me while we’re in the middle of it.”

“Kurapika . . . you’re already soft.”

Kurapika sighs. “I know. I’m sorry, Leorio. Don’t feel bad about it, okay? It’s not your fault. My body is just weird and difficult to please.”

“Is there anything else I can try?” Leorio asks. “I’ll do anything.”

Kurapika gazes down at him, his expression serious. “Anything? Really?”

“Yeah, I want to please you.”

“Be rough with me then,” Kurapika says.

“Rough? How can I be rough while I’m blowing you? I’ll hurt you down here. . . .”

Kurapika takes Leorio’s hands and places them on his bare legs. “You can hurt these. Dig your fingernails into them. Bruise them, make them bleed.”

“Kurapika . . . there’s no way I can do something like that.”

“Too much? Then be cruel to me. Insult me. Tell me I’m the worst, then take me in your mouth.”

“No. No way. I can’t do any of that stuff. I don’t want to hurt you. I mean, I literally can’t.”

Kurapika is silent for a while, and Leorio worries that he’s disappointed him. “I know it’s impossible for you,” Kurapika says eventually. “You’re too kind, Leorio. It was a stretch, and I never should have asked.”

Kurapika reaches for his button-down shirt, and Leorio helps him dress.

Leorio then gets up from the floor and sinks back on the sofa again. He pulls Kurapika into a hug, bracing himself for the possibility that Kurapika will push him away, but Kurapika allows himself to be held.

Leorio sighs, nuzzling his friend’s soft blond hair. “Honestly, Kurapika, you scare me sometimes. Asking me to bruise those pretty legs of yours. As if I could ever do something like that. . . .”

While locked in the embrace, Kurapika starts groping between Leorio’s legs. 

Leorio grasps his hand. “What are you doing?”

“You got to play with mine. It’s my turn to play with yours.”

“You don’t need to do this right now, Kurapika. You’ll tire yourself out. Just rest, okay?”

“But I’m still hungry. You still haven’t fed me.” 

Kurapika ducks down, but Leorio pulls his head back up from his crotch.

“Ah, you’re right!” Leorio yelps. “I forgot to feed you! Don’t you dare distract me again! We’re going to the kitchen!”

Ignoring Kurapika’s protests that he isn’t hungry for actual food, Leorio hauls him off to the kitchen. 

Leorio watches as Kurapika struggles to get through a plate of food. After about a fifth of the way through, Kurapika pushes it away, looking queasy.

Leorio’s voice is firm. “Kurapika, that was barely anything.”

“That was more than enough. My stomach seems to be the size of a walnut these days.”

Leorio surveys Kurapika’s slight frame, noting once again how much weight he’s lost since the beginning of the voyage to the Dark Continent.

Leorio tuts. “You’ve been skipping meals, haven’t you? Don’t skip any more! We’ll get this thing back to its normal size soon, okay?” Leorio pats Kurapika’s tummy, trying to soothe it.

“If I say okay, will you let me suck you off?” Kurapika asks.

Leorio jolts as he feels Kurapika’s foot prodding his crotch under the table. “That’s just going to worsen your appetite!”

“No, it won’t. Your cock tastes way better than any food, you know? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I first got a taste. . . .”

Leorio grabs Kurapika’s ankle and sets his foot back on the floor. “You need proper nourishment. Just a few more bites, please?”

Blowing out an irritated sigh, Kurapika picks up his fork to poke at his food. He attempts to take another bite, then grimaces and drops the fork on his plate.

“I can’t anymore, Leorio. Another bite and I’m going to start spewing everything I just ate. I’m serious.”

Leorio checks Kurapika’s forehead — he’s running a temperature now, which may explain the total lack of appetite.

“Kurapika, maybe it’s time for you to lie down again.”

“Lie down?” Kurapika looks appalled by this suggestion. “Should I lie down when I’ve just finished eating?”

“Did you even eat anything? I counted four bites. Four! Come on!”

Leorio tries to yank Kurapika from his seat at the kitchen table, but Kurapika resists. 

“I was asleep all day yesterday!” Kurapika says, outraged. “You’re forcing me to oversleep now?!”

“You’re not oversleeping! You’re making up for your chronic insomnia! Melody already told me all about it, so there’s no point denying it! Let’s go! No more excuses!”

Even as his friend fights him tooth and nail, Leorio manages to drag him back into the employees’ bedroom. Leorio stops short of actually throwing him down on the bed, knowing that it will piss Kurapika off even more.

Kurapika crosses his arms over his chest and glares down at the bed.

“What are you waiting for?” Leorio asks, after about a minute of watching Kurapika’s staring contest with the sheets. “Just lie down! Jeez!”

Kurapika switches over from glaring at the bed to glaring at Leorio. “I already said that I think it’s a terrible idea! Compensating for lost sleep with excess sleep? Is that an actual scientific concept or just a convenient theory you invented?!”

“Kurapika! Why do you keep arguing with me over this? Who’s the one with the medical training here?!”

“If you’re so knowledgeable, give me the medical term for the phenomenon you’re describing, then.”

Leorio opens his mouth, but Kurapika swiftly interrupts him. 

“You were just about to make up a word, weren’t you?” Kurapika says, smirking. “If I’m going to indulge you with your fanciful terminology, you need to indulge my fancies too. It’s only fair, right?”

Leorio just listens, exasperated, wondering where Kurapika intends to go with this spiel. Leorio is still puzzling over it when Kurapika suddenly jumps on the bed and rolls over to the side, leaving half of the space unoccupied. With his eyes steady on Leorio’s, he pats the sheets.

“Lie down beside me,” Kurapika orders. “I want to cuddle.”

Ignoring this, Leorio prepares a cool washcloth to lay over Kurapika’s forehead. He sighs, with all the weight of the world on his shoulders, when Kurapika instantly rips off the washcloth and tosses it to the floor.

“That will just get in the way of our cuddling,” Kurapika says, annoyed.

Leorio buries his face in his hands. He’s dying for a smoke now, but he’s been out of cigarettes since the day before. “God in heaven. Why is my friend being so stubborn? What did I ever do to deserve this . . .?”

Kurapika is tugging on Leorio’s shirt. “Stop whining. Just come here.”

Leorio relents, not having the energy to argue with Kurapika again. He slips underneath the blanket and holds out his arms, inviting Kurapika to snuggle against his chest.

Kurapika looks indignant. “What are you doing? Turn around!”

Leorio turns around, then feels Kurapika’s arms wrap around his waist.

Leorio chuckles despite himself. “So you’re the big spoon, huh?”

“What, are you going to make fun of me for being short again?”

“I’m not making fun of you! I think it’s cute. . . .”

Leorio is just beginning to adjust to the toasty warmth of Kurapika’s feverish heat, when he feels a hand reaching into his pants. He grips the hand and pulls it out from his boxers.

“Kurapika, it’s time to sleep.”

“But I’m not sleepy. I wasted an entire day sleeping.”

“You should still rest. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, for too long.”

“You know what’s hard and long?”

Leorio sighs. “Just close your eyes, okay? Can you at least try, for me?”

“Leorio, if you won’t let me eat you, can I at least jerk you off?”

“Which part of _you should rest_ do you not understand . . .?”

“But I _am_ resting,” Kurapika protests. “I’m lying down like you wanted me to. It’s just . . . I can’t relax until I know for a fact that I’ve satisfied you. It’s like a worm in my brain. Bugging me, bugging me nonstop. I can’t sleep until I give you what you want.”

Leorio pats Kurapika’s arm. “What I want is for you to rest, okay? Can you do that?”

“But you haven’t come even once today, right? I was grinding on top of you and overstimulating you, then didn’t follow through. Didn’t that hurt you?”

“Kurapika, I’m more than just my penis, you know? Can’t you just respect that?”

Kurapika withdraws his arms from Leorio’s waist, then turns away in bed.

Leorio turns around to face his back. “Come on. Don’t be mad at me over this. You know I’m right.”

When Kurapika doesn’t respond, Leorio tries to touch his shoulder. Kurapika jerks away at once from his touch — a sudden, spasmic movement, weighted with such revulsion that it knocks the breath from Leorio’s chest.

“ _Don’t._ Don’t touch me.”

Leorio takes a second to catch his breath. “I’m . . . I’m not going to do anything you don’t like. Can I at least rub your shoulders?”

“I said don’t touch me.”

“Why can’t I touch you anymore?”

Even though Leorio can’t see Kurapika’s expression, the venom in his voice is palpable enough. “I just don’t get you, Leorio. You told me that I can ask you for sex. You said that, explicitly. Confirmed it when I clarified. But now that I’m asking — practically _begging_ you for it — you’re turning me down _now?_ ”

“Just because I said that, it doesn’t mean that every single time —”

“ _Every single time?_ How many times have I already asked you today? You never gave it to me, not even once.”

“What are you talking about? I gave you a blow job. If you’re mad at me because you didn’t come —”

“I never asked you for that, did I? You were the one who wanted to.”

Leorio swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Then . . . you didn’t want me to?”

“I knew I wouldn’t come from just that. Someone blowing me on their first time? As if that could ever satisfy me. I knew it would only leave me frustrated.”

“If you knew, then why didn’t you stop me? If you didn’t want me to do it, you should have said so!”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, obviously. You looked so excited. You were begging for a taste. How could I have said no when you were asking me like that?”

Leorio’s feelings are indeed hurt by this. He takes a moment to recollect himself, trying to come to terms with the emotional whiplash. What a sudden nightmarish turn of a day that had started just like a dream. Waking up to Kurapika calling his name. Kissing Kurapika for the first time.

And now here they are. Kurapika facing away from him in bed, utterly repulsed by his touch.

Leorio sits up and pulls down the blanket from his legs.“Kurapika, come here. If you want to suck me off —”

“Stop. Don’t take off your pants. You’ll only embarrass yourself. It’s pointless now. I don’t feel like doing it anymore.”

Leorio stops tugging down his own pants. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. Just leave me alone. I don’t need you here anymore.”

The blow of these words is severe. Suddenly, Leorio has to struggle not to cry. “Do you want me to go then?” he asks, forcing himself to keep his voice level.

“Yes. Go.”

“But I want to stay. Can I stay right here with you, Kurapika? Can I touch you?”

Leorio’s hand hovers inches from Kurapika’s back, waiting for permission.

“Stay, go. I don’t care. Just don’t touch me again.”


	13. Afterglow tainted by regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Leorio waits for the tension in Kurapika’s back to relax, for his breathing to deepen and space out in the telltale signs of sleep. Only then does he dare extract himself from the blanket and slink from the room like a shadow.

He makes it to the kitchen before the first convulsions of crying besiege him. Smothering his panicked sobbing against his shirt, he wonders how he could have messed it up so fast. That must take a special talent for self-sabotage, a glaring absence of tact. What crucial mistake did he make to drive Kurapika this far away?

Even though he’s still an emotional wreck, he forces himself to tidy up the kitchen. He scrapes Kurapika’s leftovers to the trash then takes the dirty dishes to the sink. Midway through washing, he has to stop when the plates start swimming beneath his blurry eyes. 

Here he goes again, blubbering before the soapy cutlery.

Should he have given in to Kurapika when he was asking for it? It’s not like he didn’t want to get carried away, really. . . . As if he could ever say no to the blinding pleasure of Kurapika’s hot mouth swallowing his cock! So why in God’s name did he even say no in the first place?

_No._ It just wasn’t right. If he fucked Kurapika now . . . sure, he might lose himself in the heat of the moment, but he’d only hate himself when it was over. And he’d be damned if he ever allowed the afterglow of his first time with Kurapika to be tainted by regret.

Besides, no matter what reasons he had to decline, why couldn’t Kurapika just respect him when he said no? Kurapika was simply being too pushy! He needs to tell Kurapika off and get him to admit that he was wrong! Yeah, that’s what he should do!

Reenergized by righteous rage, he impatiently wipes the tears and snot from his face and resumes doing the dishes with a new fervor.

After he slots the last plate in the dryer, he returns to the employees’ bedroom to check on Kurapika. His heart drops to his stomach when he sees that both beds are neatly made, with no evidence that anyone was ever sleeping there.

He wheels around in a panic, ready to sprint out to search, and almost knocks Kurapika over. Kurapika, who has just returned, manages to dodge just in time as Leorio comes barreling out the doorway.

Leorio grinds to a halt at the sight of him. “Where were you?! I was so worried!”

“Bathroom. I just came back to get some clothes.”

Kurapika glances up at Leorio’s face then looks suddenly stricken. Before Leorio can wonder what that was all about, Kurapika moves on to the bedroom to fetch a fresh suit from the closet.

Leorio is watching by the doorway when it hits him. Kurapika can tell that he’s just returned from a big ugly sobfest, right ? How humiliating . . . but there’s nothing he can do about that now. Kurapika definitely noticed.

As Kurapika heads back to the bathroom, Leorio follows him.

“Wait, are you planning to take a bath?” Leorio asks.

“Yes. My thoughts were racing too fast for me to fall asleep. A bath will help me clear my mind.”

“You can’t!” Leorio protests. “You still have a fever! Plus, you could slip and fall in your condition!” 

“My condition? I’m walking perfectly fine right now, aren’t I?”

“But remember a while ago, when you were, um. . . .” Leorio trails off, unsure whether he should bring that up.

“Do I remember when I was on top of you, grinding against your body? Sure I do. I remember pretending that my legs were too weak, just so I could have a reason to keep staying on top of you. I remember purposefully overstimulating you, trying to make you so hard that you’d have no choice but to fuck me senseless. I blew it though. Despicable, right?”

The suddenness of this admission causes Leorio to freeze. Taking advantage of the momentary cessation of Leorio’s protests, Kurapika swiftly enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him.

Kurapika is in the bathroom for about two hours.

Two whole hours where Leorio fidgets on a chair some distance away from the bathroom door, practicing his Ten and Ren to calm himself. If he could only listen by the door, just to verify that Kurapika hasn’t banged his head on the floor in a fit of dizziness or something . . . but it just seems way too perverted to listen to someone bathing.

When Kurapika finally — _finally_ — emerges from the bathroom, he looks fine. Flawless even. He’s already towel-dried his golden hair, and he wears a deep blue suit, immaculately pressed. Sometimes Kurapika is so goddamn perfect that it makes Leorio want to cry. As if he hasn’t already cried enough today, jeez. . . .

Kurapika looks over at Leorio, who hurriedly turns away, trying to pretend that he wasn’t just checking him out. But Kurapika fetches his own chair and heads right for the place where Leorio sits. He positions his chair in front of Leorio’s and takes a seat.

Kurapika crosses one leg over another and stares steadily at him. Leorio stares back, uncertain about what Kurapika could possibly want from him at this point.

Kurapika is the first to speak. “The others should be getting back soon, so I should take this opportunity to say all that I need to say to you while we’re still alone. Will you please listen to me and let me finish before you say anything?”

Ah! Finally! Communication! Leorio brightens up at once. “Of course. I can do that, Kurapika.”

“Thank you, Leorio. You really are kinder to me than I deserve.” Kurapika steels himself for a second, then dives in without further ado. “Leorio, I’d like to sincerely apologize for everything I’ve said and done to you in the past few hours. For being too insistent, selfish, and entitled with regard to sexual favors that you don’t owe to me or to anyone else. For taking advantage of your patience and fondness for me as your friend. For trying to manipulate you into wanting the same things that I wanted — I mounted you and faked an inability to dismount from your body, then convinced you to get into bed with me and tried to pressure you, even though you had earlier indicated numerous times, through both verbal objections and nonverbal signals, that you simply weren’t interested in doing anything sexual with me. I apologize for pretending to enjoy that one sexual favor that you deigned to grant me, and for lying about it afterward. For making you cry —”

For the first time since he started going through his many apologies, Kurapika’s voice wavers, and a pained expression crosses his face. But it’s gone in the next moment, as if it was never there in the first place.

Kurapika regains his composure. “For being cruel to you and making you cry, I sincerely apologize. I deeply regret all the reprehensible things that I’ve said and done. I humbly wish to make amends with you, if you would only let me know how. You’re my friend, and I can’t bear to lose your companionship and good favor.” He pauses. “There. I think that’s everything I needed to say. You can speak now.”

“Okay,” Leorio says, after a beat of silence. “That was . . . that was a lot. Let me gather my thoughts for a bit.”

Kurapika leans back on his chair and stares into the middle distance.

A minute passes, then Leorio starts to speak. “Right, I _think_ I’m ready. It’s true that I was upset. I was planning to lecture you, so I appreciate you heading me off and owning up to everything you did. At least you were mature enough to admit that you were wrong. I don’t think there’s anything you left out.” He lets himself smile now. He leans forward on his chair, allowing his old warmth to color his voice. “You know, Kurapika . . . you made yourself sound like a monster with that speech. But honestly, it wasn’t all bad. I really enjoyed spending this time with you. A lot of it — most of it was good.”

Kurapika is still looking away. “Well, it’s good that you thought it was good. I’m happy you feel that way.”

He doesn’t look happy at all.

“Hey, do you even know _why_ I said no?” Leorio asks him.

“The reason doesn’t matter. I should have listened regardless.”

“Maybe so, but I still want you to hear about it. I listened to you, so will you listen to me now?”

Kurapika finally meets his eyes. “Of course. Tell me about it.”

Leorio inhales deeply before launching forward with his explanation. “Okay, so I know I’m not a doctor yet, but I _feel_ like your doctor right now. That is, you feel like a patient to me. Powerless, defenseless. Not only against me, but also against your own bad decisions. I’m not too shocked by your stubbornness, to be honest. I’ve seen this erratic behavior in patients before.”

“You’re making excuses for me now? Don’t, Leorio.”

“I’m not making excuses for you. What you did was still wrong. I’m just explaining how I felt earlier. If I have sex with you while you’re in this state, I’d just feel like I was taking advantage of you, you know?”

“Why did you initiate oral sex then?” Kurapika asks.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have, but . . . I just wanted to repay you, I guess? For those times you made me feel good. Besides, if I’m the one blowing you, you have the power in that situation, right? I didn’t feel like I was taking advantage of you then.”

Kurapika thinks about this for a bit. “I still don’t understand how you could worry about taking advantage of me when it was so painfully obvious that I wanted it. I was jumping you all over the place, for God’s sake.”

“You might not have been thinking straight,” Leorio explains.

“But I was. I was fully lucid the entire time.”

“I can’t read your mind, Kurapika. A doctor just has to presume that a patient is physically and mentally vulnerable. But beyond that, beyond the whole icky doctor-patient dynamic . . . the fact that it’s you gives me all the more reason to reject you.”

Kurapika is taken aback now. “Why did you even get my hopes up in the first place if you were just planning to reject me . . .?”

Leorio flusters. “No! That’s not what I mean! When I told you to ask me for sex any time, I 110% meant it! I want it too! Kurapika, if you only knew . . . I want to fuck you so bad right now, it’s not even funny. But not like this. Because it’s you, because you’re important to me . . . I want to wait. When I do get to hold you, I want to know that it’s really you I’m holding. Call me cheesy, but that’s how I feel about it. Do you . . . do you get what I mean?”

Kurapika furrows his brows. “Yes, I guess I do. Your line of reasoning just further illustrates how you’re a better human being than I am, in every single way. It’s interesting . . . but ultimately irrelevant, I suppose.”

“Irrelevant . . .?”

Kurapika quickly amends his statement. “Ah, I’m not calling your feelings irrelevant. As your friend, of course I care about your feelings and appreciate when you share them. But the reasoning behind your rejection is technically irrelevant for the present conundrum, in the grand scheme of things. That’s what I meant to say.”

“Kurapika . . . I have no idea what you’re talking about right now.”

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Just try.” Leorio reaches forward to pat Kurapika’s leg to encourage him.

At the moment of contact, Kurapika’s eyes widen immediately, and he kicks his own chair away from Leorio’s, with such force that his chair scrapes the floor as it slides several feet away, far out of Leorio’s reach.

Leorio’s jaw drops. He just stares at Kurapika, who is suddenly halfway across the living room from him.

Kurapika sighs, frustrated now. “Oh, I get it. How foolish of me. I understand now why you’re so confused. I forgot to tell you the most important part. Well, the most important part _after_ the apologies.”

But Kurapika has barely said anything other than apologies. . . .

Leorio has to raise his voice somewhat, given the new distance between their bodies. “So what’s the most important part?”

Kurapika rakes his chained fingers through his hair, seemingly annoyed with himself. “Shit. I’ve lost my bearings now. But okay, here’s the gist of it.” He takes a deep breath, then looks up with a somber expression. “Leorio, I don’t think we should touch each other anymore. I’m not just talking about touching each other in a sexual context — we shouldn’t be touching each other at all. That’s what I’ve decided is the solution to the current conundrum.”

The silence that follows is absolute.

“No touching?” Leorio finally manages to say. “No touching, at all? Isn’t that . . . just way too extreme?”

“Is it? I don’t think so.”

“Kurapika, come on! You were a little pushy with me, and you feel bad about it. I get it. But every time I asked you to stop, you stopped, right? Is that enough of a reason to decide something as dramatic as _no touching?_ ”

“That’s not the only reason. There are hundreds of tiny little reasons. This incident was simply the tipping point. Besides, do I even need a reason in the first place? It’s just something I’ve decided.”

“Is that something you alone can decide?” Leorio demands. “If it’s something this important, we should talk about it first!”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “What is there to talk about? Didn’t we both agree that I was in the wrong for continuing to touch you when you already told me not to? So why can’t I myself decide that I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of touching you anymore?”

“But why? Why all of a sudden? Before it got weird, it was fun, you know. . . .”

Kurapika sighs. “ _Fun?_ For you, maybe. The entire thing was pure agony for me. A part of me already suspected that I might ruin everything if I touched you that first time, back in the stockroom in the medical ward. But I did it anyway. I made that first move. I regret it. This is all my fault. I acknowledge it.”

“Don’t . . . don’t say you regret it. That really hurts.”

“ _Of course_ I regret it. Because I was this selfish — because I wanted too much from you — I only ended up hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you. I never should have touched you in the first place. I’d take it all back if I could, but it’s too late now.”

Leorio struggles to stay calm as the seriousness of the situation starts to sink in. “Hey, it’s not too late! We’re talking about it right now! This is good. Dialogue, communication. Together, we can figure something out.”

Kurapika’s voice is firm. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already made my decision. I’m not going to change my mind, and I’m not going to let you talk me out of it. I just want what’s best for you, Leorio.”

“Oh, you’re doing this for my benefit? That’s news to me.”

“As difficult as it might be for you to believe, given my recent displays of vile self-absorption . . . yes, I was honestly thinking about you when I decided this.”

Leorio throws up his hands. “News flash! I hate this! This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard! Damn it, Kurapika! How can you spring something like this on me out of nowhere?!”

“Why are you so angry about it? Listen, Leorio. You’re the best person I know, okay? You’re my favorite person in the entire living world, and I’m not just saying that. I know that there are millions of beautiful and wonderful people out there who can give you whatever it is you wanted from me, minus all the mind games and manipulation —”

“Mind games? Manipulation? Where?!”

“Everywhere,” Kurapika says, looking suddenly drained. “That’s just the way I am. I destroy everything that’s good for me. I ruin everything. I’ve lost everything. I don’t have anything left to give you. Better stay as far away from all that as you can. So if it’s sex that you’re searching for, or intimacy, or just a warm body, it’s best to select healthier alternatives —”

“Kurapika, shut up,” Leorio says, his tone vicious. “Seriously. You don’t get me at all. You didn’t get me when I was trying to explain my feelings to you earlier, and you really don’t get me now.”

“Can I — can I just say one more thing? Then I’ll shut up forever, if that’s what you want.”

“Fine, one more thing,” Leorio grunts. “Then after that, you’ll sit down and shut up until I figure out how to shake you out of this funk. Got that?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Okay. Talk.”

Kurapika’s expression is grave. “Leorio, I promise to behave from now on. I’m going to respect all your decisions, so please respect my decision too. Please, promise me. Promise me you won’t touch me either. You’ll just make it harder for the both of us if you do.”

Leorio is groaning to the high heavens now. “Ugh! I shouldn’t have let you talk!”

“Leorio —”

“This isn’t fair, Kurapika! How can you ask me to promise you something like that? Do you really not care about my feelings at all? I _want_ to keep touching you. I was dying to do it, and now that I’ve started, how can you ask me to stop? Feels _so good_ to touch you, I’m kind of addicted to it —”

Kurapika covers his face with his chained hand. His shoulders are trembling. “Please, Leorio. Please.”

Seeing Kurapika’s obvious discomposure, Leorio feels like he has no choice but to give him what he’s asking for. So Leorio says it, even though he hates every single word he’s saying. “I promise. I promise not to touch you, Kurapika. Not unless you ask me to.”

Kurapika stares at the floor for a second, then gets up and walks away.

“Hey, where the hell do you think you’re going?!” Leorio roars. “We’re still talking! You said you’d sit down and shut up!”

Kurapika’s voice is faint. “Water. I need water. My throat is parched. I’ll shut my mouth after that.”

Leorio notices Kurapika wobble as he walks away. Leorio lunges forward instinctively to support him, but stops himself in the nick of time when he remembers what he’s just promised. 

He’s not allowed to touch Kurapika anymore, not even to help him if he’s falling.


	14. Climaxes in alignment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Shoulders hunched forward in the manner of a death row inmate marching toward the electric chair, Kurapika returns to where Leorio waits for him. Kurapika is just about to sit down again when the door at the entrance bangs open, and Hisoka stalks into the living room.

There’s barely enough time for Leorio to muster a small sense of relief that Hisoka’s arms are free of the trophy decapitated heads he promised, when Hisoka swiftly hauls Kurapika over his shoulder and carries him away.

“Wait —!” Kurapika is flailing his limbs, but Hisoka’s grip is unshakable.

Melody is next to reenter. Her eyes widen in alarm as she watches Kurapika struggle in midair, scrabbling his fists against Hisoka’s broad shoulders.

“Melody!” Kurapika yelps when he spots her. “Is everyone . . .?”

“Everyone’s fine,” Melody quickly assures him. “No deaths, no injuries. The nominal ceremonies were uneventful to an unnerving degree for the entire Kakin royal family.”

She’s barely finished sharing this update when Hisoka slams the door of the employees’ bedroom behind Kurapika and himself. 

Leorio rushes to the door of the bedroom. His hand is already on the knob when the realization of his own impotence hits him like a speeding train to the head. He can’t help Kurapika without touching him, can he? And even if he picks a fight with Hisoka, is there even a one-in-a-million chance that he can prevail?

Leorio turns to Melody, his expression desperate. “Someone should save Kurapika from Hisoka! He — he looked horrified. . . .” 

With her amplified hearing ability, Melody pauses to listen to the sounds behind the bedroom door, inaudible to everyone else. When she finally speaks to Leorio, she keeps her voice low, as everyone else has just returned to the 14th Prince’s quarters, presently preoccupied with conversation amongst themselves.

“I detect no fear in Kurapika’s heartbeat,” Melody tells Leorio. “He is, however, deeply upset about something. I’m guessing that you know the reason behind his emotional turmoil better than I do. As for Hisoka, he’s infuriated right now. In any case, it’s wisest to leave those two alone when they’re both in such foul moods. Anyone who gets in their way now will only get hurt.”

Inside the employees’ bedroom, Hisoka throws Kurapika down on the bed and violently rips off his clothes. Seeing that Kurapika is wearing a fresh suit, impeccably ironed, he goes out of his way to tear such perfection to shreds with his bare hands.

Hisoka stands over the bed and stares down at Kurapika, who is fully naked now, surrounded by the deep blue and white remnants of what used to be his clothes.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hisoka demands. “Why have you stopped fighting back?”

Kurapika only looks defeated. “What’s the point? We both know where this ends.”

“Does it end with me relentlessly plundering that greedy little hole of yours until you can’t walk for weeks?”

Kurapika’s voice is toneless. “Is that what you want? Do it then.”

Hisoka sits down on the edge of the bed and gazes at the wall. “I’m extremely pissed right now, so I don’t want to do something as boring as that.” He looks down at Kurapika again. “Hey, I failed to win you any of the coveted heads you wanted. Are you disappointed?”

“I already told you to think of those as bonuses. If Prince Woble and Queen Oito are safe, then I have no reason to complain. That’s all I care about.”

Hisoka regards him quietly for a minute. When he finally speaks, the usual playful lilt has returned to his voice. “We can always go on the offensive, you know. You and I, we can team up to win the Succession War. With your brains and my brawn, we can go on a rampage and give them hell. That’s what I’m proposing.”

“A proposal, huh? You may have skipped over a number of steps in the courtship process. All the steps, actually.”

“Just think about it for now. No pressure.”

Kurapika looks around the bed, brushing the fabric of his torn clothes to the floor. “Wartime woes as pillow talk? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that this is your idea of foreplay, Hisoka.”

“Oh, this isn’t turning you on? Okay, here’s an idea. Why don’t we do something you want today, for a change?”

“Something I want?” Kurapika forces out a hollow laugh. “Wow. You’re really outdoing yourself with the mind games this time.”

“I feel like spoiling you, is that so strange?” Hisoka strips off his own clothes, then climbs on top of Kurapika. “I failed you today. I came back empty-handed. I owe you for this incompetence, so what do you want in exchange? Tell me. This magician will pull all the tricks you desire out of the hat.”

“What do I want . . .?” Kurapika’s eyes wander over the ceiling, as if hoping to find answers there. “Rip my heart out. How about that? Can you do that for me?”

Hisoka pretends to think about it. “Nah, I’m not spoiling you _that much._ What else do you want?”

“Pluck my eyes out. If I hadn’t abandoned my clan at that most crucial moment in time, that would have been my fate. It’s what I deserve. You like these scarlet eyes, don’t you? Keep them.”

Hisoka looks at him carefully, then speaks to him in a soft voice. “What has gotten you so worked up today? Talk to me.”

Kurapika sighs. “Enough with these games. Let’s just do it.”

“Fine. You can talk to me with your body. I know you’re wonderfully eloquent in that language.” 

Hisoka flips Kurapika over to his stomach and lifts his hips. Kurapika anticipates the moment of penetration, looking forward to the feeling of being filled up to the point wherein his entire being lacks further space for anything unnecessary — no thoughts, no emotions, no regrets. He simply wishes to erase them all.

Hisoka, however, starts eating his ass.

“What are you doing?” Kurapika asks impatiently. “Skip preparing me. I’ve already trained myself to accommodate your monster cock, just like you wanted.”

But Hisoka just continues to lap hungrily at his hole. When Hisoka begins to tease the tight ring of muscle with the tip of his tongue, Kurapika fists the sheets and bites his bottom lip to contain himself.

“Nghh. Fuck me already! Come on!”

Hisoka commences fucking his asshole with his long tongue.

Kurapika can’t help groaning now. “Ah, fuck . . . _fuck_. . . .”

Hisoka pauses to plant a kiss on the cleft of his bottom. “Still want me to skip preparing you?” he teases. “Want me to stop?”

“Don’t. Don’t stop.”

Hisoka smirks, then resumes rimming him, jacking him off at the same time.

Soon enough, Kurapika is gasping out, “Wait. Stop now. Stop what you’re doing.”

Hisoka pulls his face back, awaiting further instructions.

“Want your cock now,” Kurapika hisses. “Want to come while you’re inside me.”

Hisoka straightens up and positions himself over Kurapika’s entrance. He then pushes in slowly, torturously slow. He licks his lips as he enjoys the show beneath him — Kurapika whining, with increasing urgency, as his lover pries him open, inch by leisurely inch.

Once Hisoka is all in, he instructs Kurapika to look at him. Kurapika twists his head around to meet his eyes.

“No, not like that,” Hisoka says. “Don’t turn your eyes red.”

“Why not? Can you even finish anymore if my eyes are that muddy color?”

“I already told you. It’s boring doing the same thing over and over again. Keep them brown.”

Kurapika closes his eyes for a few seconds. When he opens them, they’re back to their regular color.

“I’m having a hard time seeing them,” Hisoka tells him. “I want to look into your eyes while I’m fucking you. Are you strong enough to ride me, or are you still too sick?”

“Flip me over on my back.”

Hisoka hesitates. “Really? Are you really okay with that?”

“Do it.”

Hisoka turns him over. He adjusts the angle of their bodies before he starts to fuck Kurapika, taking special care to hit his prostate with every thrust.

Kurapika stares up steadily at him the entire time, moaning openly.

So intensely turned on by the killer tandem of shameless sound and expression, Hisoka has to slow down to prevent himself from exploding prematurely. “Feeling good, Kurapika?” he murmurs, smiling.

“So good, Hisoka. You feel so fucking good inside me.”

Unable to stop himself, Hisoka picks up the pace again. He’s letting go now, allowing animalistic noises to rip freely from his chest.

They come together — climaxes in perfect alignment — without expending any effort to coordinate.

Three days later, Kurapika is shutting the door to the queen’s bedroom behind him when Hisoka approaches him with his shirt off.

“Stop walking around half naked,” Kurapika says at once. “I forbid you from offending Queen Oito’s delicate sensibilities with all that . . . sculpted business.”

Despite the disapproving tone, there’s an appreciative glint in Kurapika’s eyes. Hilarious, really, that Kurapika can still appear so interested in such a minimal level of exposure, considering that they see each other stark naked on a regular basis.

Hisoka manages to suppress his mirth, not wanting to tick him off when he has a favor to ask. “Didn’t you put the queen to sleep just now? Just come here. You’re just about the right size for what I need.”

“The right size . . .?”

Because the others are hanging around the living room, Hisoka ushers Kurapika into the kitchen. Kurapika watches in bemusement as Hisoka stretches out on the floor by the kitchen table, then beckons for Kurapika to join him.

Kurapika is taken aback. “ _Here?_ I’m not opposed to the occasional exhibitionist adventure, theoretically speaking, but this is a bit much. . . .”

What a tasty tidbit for Kurapika to volunteer without any provocation. Hisoka files the admission away in his head for later experimentation. At the moment, however, his interests in having Kurapika join him on the floor are comparatively innocent.

Kurapika remains stubbornly upright, so Hisoka sits up and, without warning, yanks one of Kurapika’s ankles forward. As Kurapika loses his balance, Hisoka grabs him by the waist, whirls him around, and sits his butt down over his own feet.

Kurapika twists his head around to glare daggers at him. “What the hell? Wanna die?!” 

Hisoka ignores this, well-versed with Kurapika’s token death threats by this point. Now that Kurapika is in the right place to weigh down his feet, Hisoka begins doing sit-ups. Kurapika narrows his eyes as he watches Hisoka’s torso rise up and sink down, rise up and sink down.

Kurapika faces forward again. “Can’t I just turn around? This position feels uncomfortable. . . .”

“How can any position between us feel uncomfortable for you? I’ve literally stuck my tongue deep inside your ass. I think we’re way past ever feeling embarrassed around each other.”

“It’s uncomfortable for me because I can’t see your face.”

Kurapika turns around then sits down again, facing Hisoka this time around.

“Oh, nice.” Hisoka whistles appreciatively. “I like this position even better. You’re spreading your legs so lewdly in front of me. This is truly the motivation I need.”

“Do you need me here to anchor you or to motivate you?”

“Both.” Hisoka’s physical prowess being what it is, he continues to speak in his regular tone of voice even as he now speeds up his sit-ups. “There aren’t many opportunities to exercise on this ship, you know? I’m not about to arrive at the Dark Continent without abs cut as hard as diamonds.”

“So you actually have to work for these abs, huh?” Kurapika says, gazing down at Hisoka’s abdomen. “Why have I always pictured you falling from your mother’s womb with this fully-formed eight-pack extravaganza?”

“That’s because you’re a horny little minx. You objectify every man you who wanders into your orbit, shamelessly reducing each to his hottest parts.”

Kurapika snorts. “Excuse me? When did I ever objectify you?”

“I seem to remember you grabbing me by the dick to lead me into bed that first time.” Hisoka snickers as he recalls it. “Ah, I watched you grow from an eager little virgin to a dick-destroying nymphomaniac. Such fond memories bring a tear to my eye. . . .”

“Easy with the insults now. You don’t want to lose your exercise aid, do you? Think of your poor abs.”

“We can switch later, if you want. You should bulk up too. Balance out that foul-mouthed pretty face with a threatening physique.”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “I get more than enough exercise every night. You know that better than anyone, don’t you?”

“Every night? Try three times every morning and three times every night, oh insatiable one.”

“Are we up to six times per day now?” Kurapika fakes a shocked gasp. “Goodness, why do you even need this extra workout session then?”

Kurapika attempts to get up, but Hisoka holds him in place by the waist. Hisoka chuckles, amused as always by the feisty nature of his companion. He wouldn’t have it any other way, really.

“You have to do this for me,” Hisoka tells him. “You don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you go. We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends help each other out during their time of need.”

Kurapika is so surprised by this that he stops pretending he wants to leave. “Friends . . . is that how you see us?”

“How else would you call it?” Hisoka says. “You rely on me, trust me with the worst sides of your personality, play games with me, vent your frustrations with me, physically and verbally spar with me for fun. You like hanging out with me, don’t you? Isn’t it lonely when I’m not around? Don’t worry, I feel the same way. We have a good time when we’re together. What else is there to friendship that we haven’t covered?”

Kurapika seems to dwell on this. “Hmm. Point taken. It just never occurred to me that you felt that way.”

“You should have known. I’ve seen you as my friend for a long time now.”

“Really? A long time?” Kurapika sounds unsure.

“Really. I’ve felt the urge to murder you at least thrice, yet you emerged miraculously unscathed after each encounter. We’ve teamed up, we’ve met in deserted places at night. After I generously assisted you during our alliance, you then blue-balled me by incapacitating my second most delectable opponent. If it was anyone else, I would have flayed them by now for their impertinence. I would have hung their skin out to dry. The fact that you’ve crossed me this much and lived to tell the tale . . . as far as I’m concerned, we share a friendship for the ages.”

After Hisoka finishes extolling the strength of their supposed friendship, there’s a beat of silence, then Kurapika actually bursts out laughing.

Hisoka smiles, his curiosity piqued by the unrestrained peals of laughter. He’s never heard Kurapika truly laugh before, and he’s willing to bet that almost no one in the living world has been blessed with this opportunity. If people only knew that Kurapika was capable of making such an enchanting, pleasant sound . . . they’d never leave him alone, that’s for sure.

Hisoka makes a mental note of it — he needs to find ways to catch Kurapika off guard so that he can trigger that rare laughter again.

As Kurapika’s laughter mellows to giggles, Hisoka notices Leorio approaching them. Oh, not bad. No matter how virtually untrained the guy appears to be with his Nen, his Zetsu is at least adequate.

“Kurapika,” Leorio says.

When he hears that voice, Kurapika freezes at once, the giggling snuffed out instantly in his chest. In the next second, he jumps to his feet to face his friend. “What is it, Leorio?” he asks, all somber solicitude now.

“Sorry to interrupt your date, but I need to talk to you alone.” After speaking, Leorio walks off without waiting for a response.

Kurapika turns back briefly to Hisoka. “Will you be fine without me?”

“I’ll manage,” Hisoka says. “I’ll see whether I can bully Bill into taking your place. He’s nowhere near as motivational for exercise purposes, but it’s always amusing watching him squirm around me.”

Kurapika smirks. “Try not to torment him too much. Not everybody is blessed with my endless patience for your twisted games.”

“ _Nobody_ can tolerate me to the extent that you can. You’re one in a billion, boy, don’t ever forget that.”

Flashing a last smile down at Hisoka, Kurapika leaves to follow Leorio.


	15. Vanishing scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Sitting on the edges of separate beds, they soak in silence for a while.

Leorio finally crosses his arms over his chest and clears his throat. “So I called Cheadle this afternoon. I told her that your condition has really improved.”

“Then . . . you’re leaving soon, right?”

How does Kurapika feel about the fact that he might be leaving? Regretful that they’re parting in such distant terms? Relieved that he can stop pretending to feel as bad about the lack of contact as Leorio does, when he’s obviously been experiencing an excess of touchy-feely contact with that clown Hisoka?

Kurapika and Hisoka share the habit of mysteriously disappearing at random points of the day, only to return with Kurapika looking distinctly disheveled and with Hisoka remaining as superciliously groomed as ever. Sure, Hisoka’s undeniable penchant for inflicting his chaos upon Kurapika’s hair and clothes is difficult enough to stomach on its own . . . but does Hisoka really need to flash a shit-eating grin at Leorio _every damn time_ this happens? Any more of this and Leorio is going to punch that smug face through the wall!

“Leorio, are you angry with me about something?”

Leorio shakes his head, trying to expel the infuriating image of Hisoka’s face. “No, not with you. Forget about it. Going back to what I was saying, yeah, that’s what I told Cheadle before I brought you here. I said I’d stay until you were healthy again. But when I called her to tell her I was going back to the medical ward, she told me to wait here.”

“Wait here . . . for what?”

Leorio picks at a small tear in the fabric of his pants. “No idea. She seemed subdued over the phone, then hung up before I could ask for details.”

Kurapika rubs his chin, contemplative. “Hmm. She’s coming over here to talk then, or at least sending someone on her behalf. That seems plausible.”

“Here? You mean . . . to the 14th Prince’s quarters?”

“If Chairman Yorkshire didn’t provide you with any details, then she most likely wished to avoid being overheard over the unsecured phone line.”

“Or maybe she was busy, so she had to hang up?” Leorio suggests.

Kurapika shakes his head. “Then why hasn’t she called you back yet? No, my guess is that the Chairman or her delegate intends to personally visit the 14th Prince’s quarters to relay information about the Hunter who betrayed our side to Kakin. Mizaistom and Botobai must have pinned down the traitor’s identity by now.”

“I’m amazed you can even remember any of that. I didn’t think you were listening during the meeting. You seemed way too pissed off. . . .”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “Fortunately, my ears remain fully functional regardless of my mood. Is that not the case for you?”

“Um . . . never mind. What were you telling me about the traitor?”

“Quite a few of the suspects that I narrowed down were Hunter guards assigned to the first tier, so I was already anticipating a situation wherein the Zodiacs would more intimately enmesh themselves with the first tier’s affairs, irrespective of their desire for or aversion to such involvement. It likewise makes sense for them to take advantage of the fact that two of their members currently reside in the first tier. Namely, the Rat and the Boar.”

Leorio bites his thumb, thinking about this. His eyes widen as he realizes what Kurapika is suggesting. “Wait, so you and me . . . _we_ have to deal with the traitor situation? We have to go out there and confront the traitor ourselves? You think that’s why Cheadle asked me to wait?”

Kurapika is observing his face. “Listen, Leorio. If you’d rather not be involved —” 

“What are you talking about?” Leorio grins broadly. “I’m really excited! Ah, a mission with Kurapika! Sounds super cool. . . .”

Kurapika smiles back. Leorio hasn’t seen that gentle expression directed at him in a while. Kurapika does smile fairly often while talking to Queen Oito or while holding Prince Woble in his arms. He might even flash the occasional small smile at Melody, his close companion from the Nostrade mafia family. 

And with Hisoka. . . . Leorio’s heart wrenches as he recalls the way that Kurapika was laughing around Hisoka — an utterly relaxed, delighted sound — as the two of them huddled close together on the kitchen floor. His guard was down, so completely, at that moment. Then when Leorio called his name, his defenses instantly reared back up, closing off his expression again.

“Leorio?” Kurapika is saying now. “Here. If you’re going to be staying for a while, then I guess I should give you this.”

Leorio snaps back to the present just in time to catch a small box that Kurapika tosses toward him. He checks it. It’s a pack of cigarettes, his favorite brand.

Kurapika is still smiling at him. “You were out of smokes, right? I can see you fidgeting. Just tell me when you need more, so I can barter again with Master Izunavi in the 6th Prince’s quarters. I noticed that you smoke the same brand as he does.”

“You went out . . . to get me this?”

“Yes, this evening, while the queen was having her dinner.”

Leorio continues to stare down at the cigarettes, stunned. 

“I wanted to thank you, I suppose,” Kurapika says, his voice soft.

“Thank me . . .? For what?”

“For always taking care of me. No, more than that . . . I want to thank you for being here right now. Your presence is as comforting as always. When you’re around, it’s just different. The air is easier to breathe. Every person in your vicinity relaxes to a certain degree. There’s just something about you, Leorio. You make everything around you better.”

Leorio now grips the cigarettes in his hand. “Don’t. Don’t say that.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Saying stuff like that makes me want to touch you even more. It makes this distance between us hurt even worse.”

Kurapika looks at him quietly.

Leorio throws up his hands, suddenly frustrated. “And you can’t do this stuff anymore either! The first tier’s hallways are a war zone, right? In the short time I was out there, I met two people ready to gun me down! Stop going out and risking your life for pointless things like this!” Leorio angrily waves the pack of cigarettes in front of Kurapika’s face.

Kurapika leans backward, but holds his ground. “It’s not pointless. I got them because I know you like them.”

“You’re risking your life for my nicotine needs now? That sounds like the most pointless thing in the world! Just as pointless as your visits to me in the medical ward before!”

“What are you even talking about? There’s no way that a visit to you can ever be pointless to me. I wanted to see you back then, so I made it happen.”

“You _wanted_ to see me?” Leorio hates the way that his voice cracks. “You risked everything just to play with my dick, only to later regret it and decide that you _never_ want to touch me again? Doesn’t seem worth it now, does it?”

“Leorio. . . .”

Leorio forces himself to stop brandishing his arms around in sheer annoyance. “Tch. What the hell am I doing. . . . I shouldn’t be lashing out at you like this.” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m sorry, Kurapika. Even though I disagree with your reasoning, I already said I’d respect your decision.”

“No need to apologize. I’d rather you lash out at me like this than ignore me completely. It’s good to get these feelings out there. If talking about it makes you feel better, then we should talk about it.”

“Ah, there _is_ something I want to talk to you about,” Leorio says. “Something I want to ask you.”

“What is it?”

Leorio stares down at his lap. “About Hisoka . . . is he still giving you a hard time? I know I have no right to stop you from getting involved with the likes of him, if that’s what you really want. But if he’s _hurting_ you again. . . .” He clenches both fists tightly, fury coursing through him as he recalls the marks on Kurapika’s body.

Kurapika seems to choose his next words carefully. “Hisoka and I haven’t been hurting each other, no. We’ve both been behaving. He listens to me whenever I say enough is enough, and vice versa.”

“You’re not just defending him?” Leorio asks, suspicious.

“I’m not. He hasn’t said it in so many words, but I think he actually feels sorry about what happened before. He’s been trying to make up for it ever since. I can tell.”

“Are you talking about what he did to your back? That . . . that horrible scarring?” Leorio can’t help but wince. Yeah, he’s never going to get over that awful sight. . . .

“That’s only one small part of it,” Kurapika says. “Worse than that, he pushed me too hard. And like a fool, I pushed back. We just kept pushing and pushing, so of course something had to fall in the end. Hence my latest collapse.”

Leorio quits glaring at his lap and meets Kurapika’s eyes. “I’ve been wanting to ask you about that too. Kurapika . . . how many times have you collapsed lately? Since the voyage started, I mean. Be honest.”

Kurapika combs back his hair with his chained hand and gazes ahead at the door. He’s clearly uncomfortable with this turn in the conversation. It’s a while before he speaks again. “Look, Leorio. I’ll listen to my body from now on, okay? I won’t push it past its limits again. So if you intend to reprimand me for this —”

“Just answer the damn question.”

Kurapika sighs. “Not counting the latest incident . . . just twice. It’s not a big deal, you see?”

“ _Not a big deal?_ ” Leorio’s voice is suddenly too loud, seemingly magnified in the closed space of the bedroom. “If you’ve already collapsed _twice_ in the span of three weeks, why even allow yourself to reach that point again? Damn it, Kurapika! Why are you always like this? Do you really not value your own life at all? Take better care of yourself! Stop making me worry about you!”

Kurapika is defensive. “It’s not as if I’m willfully setting out to worry you. It just happened that way, so —”

“Don’t let it happen again! I hate this! I hate what you’re doing to yourself!” 

“I’m not doing anything to myself.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Leorio’s voice is ferocious. “Whose idea was it to attend a meeting with gaping wounds all over his back? Who was the one who stopped me from fetching pills for his so-called ‘minor headache,’ when it turns out he’s been suffering from debilitating migraines all this time? Who was the one pretending he was fine, acting like it was business as usual, until the very last minute when he fell to pieces right in front of me? Kurapika, do you have _any_ idea how scared I felt back then? You — you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Kurapika jumps to his feet. After Leorio’s constant sniping, he’s finally incited to anger himself. “I get it already! I can’t do anything right with you these days! All I do is worry you and piss you off and make you cry! I’ll leave you alone now, so that you won’t need to deal with this bothersome friend of yours anymore!”

Kurapika starts to stomp off.

“Wait, Kurapika! Just wait! I — I’m not trying to pick a fight again, I swear!”

Kurapika whirls around, glaring at him. “Then what do you want?”

Leorio is staring, alarmed. “Your back . . . it’s bleeding again.”

“Shit, really?” Kurapika attempts to twist around to check the back of his button-down shirt. “Damn, I must have accidentally reopened them. . . .”

“Maybe it’s all that alone time with Hisoka? Just a thought. I mean, I know you like sex, but _too much_ of it while you’re recovering. . . .”

Kurapika ignores this. “Ah, I should probably use the Holy Chain on these wounds, after all.”

As Kurapika heads out of the employees’ bedroom, Leorio falls into step beside him. 

“Hey, can I watch you do it?” Leorio asks. “As someone training to be a doctor, I like learning about different Nen healing abilities.”

Kurapika glances up at him. “I don’t mind if you watch, but. . . .”

“I can’t touch you, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise.”

Inside the bathroom, Kurapika takes off his shirt and turns his back toward the mirror to check on his wounds. A particularly long cut, which almost perfectly follows the line of his spine, is leaking fresh crimson blood.

Leorio suppresses the urge to leap forward and start treating Kurapika’s wounds with his own hands. Instead, he makes himself lean against the tiled wall and watch obediently. A lump forms in his throat as he surveys that beautiful body, the wondrous skin that he’s forbidden from ever exploring again.

Leorio then notices something odd. “Kurapika, where are your bandages? Didn’t I remind you to ask Hanzo to help you replace them every day?”

“I removed the bandages before I took that long bath, then didn’t bother with them after that. They’re annoying. They get in the way of everything.”

Leorio is exasperated. “Wait, so you’ve been lying to me about it since then? I reminded you so many times, and you lied every single time?! You’re seriously the worst patient ever! So damn stubborn!”

Kurapika just gazes ahead, determined to ignore Leorio’s indignation. The familiar reddish tint gleams over his black contacts. He flicks his right hand, and the chain over his thumb snakes to his back. 

A silver cross hovers between his shoulder blades, radiating green aura. Just like that, the countless cuts crisscrossing his back seal up in seconds, vanishing without a trace. The skin is smooth once more, pristine.

Momentarily forgetting his irritation over Kurapika’s hopelessly obstinate nature, Leorio stares with his mouth agape, amazed by the efficiency and cleanliness of the operation.

With his eyes purely dark again, Kurapika regards Leorio’s stunned silence with a slight smile as he begins to button his shirt. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it, how these wounds of mine can disappear in mere seconds. Almost like nothing ever happened there in the first place.”


	16. Guise of war strategy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

As predicted, Cheadle visits the 14th Prince’s quarters before long. The very next afternoon, she knocks on the door, with Mizaistom by her side, to call for a meeting with Leorio and Kurapika. 

When Kurapika attempts to vouch for the other Hunters in the 14th Prince’s camp, Cheadle only shakes her head.

“Given the delicate matters that I intend to discuss,” she says, “I’m permitting only the members of the Zodiac Twelve to participate in this meeting. It’s best to trust as few people as possible.”

Kurapika considers this. “I do share the sentiment, as a general rule. However. . . .” Kurapika beckons to Hisoka, who is standing some distance apart from them, along with the other non-Zodiacs in the 14th Prince’s camp. When Hisoka approaches, Kurapika rests his chained hand on the much taller man’s shoulder. “Hisoka’s sitting in. I’m putting my foot down on this.”

Cheadle and Mizaistom exchange looks. By this point, the Zodiacs have heard many things about Hisoka’s reputation, all of them unequivocally terrible — the jester’s ruthlessly murderous deeds are feared among even the highest echelons of Hunters.

Mizaistom is likewise aware that Hisoka is the Black Whale’s most wanted individual — hunted down not only by the notorious Phantom Troupe, but also by various other factions in the lower tiers. How has Hisoka even managed to evade capture for this long? That sly smile of his seems to promise endless tricks up his sleeves.

Noticing the apprehensive expressions on the elder Zodiacs’ faces, Kurapika speaks up again. “I’m not attending the meeting without Hisoka. We’re a package deal, take it or leave it.”

Seeing that Kurapika won’t change his mind about this, Cheadle relents, knowing that the Zodiacs can’t achieve their current objectives without Kurapika’s assistance. 

Once this has been decided, they all move to the kitchen, with Hisoka shutting the door behind them.    


Kurapika chooses not to mention that, irrespective of the switch in location, Melody is capable of hearing every word behind the closed door. It serves his own interests to apprise at least one other person in the 14th Prince’s camp regarding the conduct of the meeting.

Cheadle sits at the head of the kitchen table, with Mizaistom to her right. When Kurapika sits across from Mizaistom, a bit of a scuffle follows as both Hisoka and Leorio lunge forward at the same time to claim the seat next to Kurapika’s.

Leorio recoils from the momentary unwanted contact with Hisoka’s body, then glares at him, challenging him silently.

In response, Hisoka raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Be a good boy and sit where you belong,” he whispers. “You’re not allowed to touch him anyway, so what’s the point?”

Leorio’s eyes widen. Kurapika actually told Hisoka about the no-touching directive? Why? To what end? The humiliation surrounding this situation is unbearable. . . .

The people already seated at the table observe as Leorio and Hisoka continue to stare each other down. The conflict is only resolved when Kurapika gets up and transfers to the seat beside Mizaistom’s, leaving Leorio and Hisoka to sit beside each other.

Once they’re all seated, Mizaistom reveals the identity of the Hunter who betrayed the Association to the Kakin Empire: Giuliano from the 6th Prince’s camp.

“Young guy, with a mild, sort of surprised look in his eyes?” Kurapika inquires.

“That’s the one,” Mizaistom confirms. “Do you know him well?”

“Not at all,” Kurapika says. “But I happened to visit the 6th Prince’s quarters just yesterday, so I had the opportunity to get a good look at the camp’s current employees.”

“The 6th Prince let you in?” Mizaistom asks.

Kurapika nods. “After a brief visual assessment, yes.”

“I’m surprised that any of the princes can still afford to be this accommodating at this juncture in the war,” Mizaistom says.

“It’s not that the 6th Prince is especially accommodating. Prince Tyson has a . . . peculiar standard with regard to staff and even prospective visitors. Let’s leave it at that. So presuming that there are no last-minute changes, this would mean that we’re dealing with. . . .” Kurapika pauses to rub his chin. “Two Pro Hunters, five personal guards, five miscellaneous employees, and three spies assigned there by one of the other queens. 1st Queen Unma, I’m guessing.”

Leorio is amazed. “You got all that from a cigarette run . . .?”

Kurapika throws him a slight smile. “Thank God you smoke the brand that you do, huh?” He turns to Hisoka now. “Hisoka, what’s your assessment of the 6th Prince’s camp based on your observations during the nominal ceremonies?”

Hisoka answers without missing a beat, as if already anticipating the question. “In the 6th Prince’s camp, only the Hunters and the queen’s spies are Nen users. The personal guards are as soft and as punchable as marshmallows. As for the traitor . . . he’s the younger Hunter, right? Harmless. If not a marshmallow, then a cinnamon roll. I’d rate him 35 at most, out of 100. As for the other Hunter —”

“Izunavi,” Kurapika interrupts. “That’s the other Hunter’s name.”

“Whatever his name is, his threat is moderate,” Hisoka says. “I’d grade him 65. 70 on a good day. As for the queen’s spies . . . well, I have their forgettable faces mixed up now, but I’d score them 47, 59, 83. That’s right. At least one of them should prove diverting enough.” Hisoka grins, thrilled by the prospect.

When Hisoka notices that Cheadle and Mizaistom are looking at him with wary expressions, his voice takes on a teasing tone. “Do the honorable Zodiacs wish to know how high or how low I’d score their potential to amuse me in battle? Why, you only need to ask.”

“I’ll pass,” Cheadle says.

“As would I,” Mizaistom chimes in.

Hisoka shrugs. “Crying shame.”

Leorio cuts in. “Hang on, I’ve got a question. Why do we even need to confront this guy Giuliano in the first place? The damage is done! The Hunters are already escorting Kakin and friends to the Dark Continent! The Succession War has already been extended! Maybe . . . maybe the Zodiacs can discipline him when the war’s over? I mean, what’s the rush?”

Cheadle folds her arms over her chest. “We need to assume that Giuliano remains a double agent for the Kakin Empire. If someone from our side continues to have such close ties with Kakin, we may be betrayed again in the near future, with potentially catastrophic consequences. The whole situation with Beyond is dicey enough without the additional complication of a troublemaker like Giuliano.”

“I agree with the Chairman,” Kurapika says. “It’s better to deal with a delicate issue like this as soon as practicable.”

Cheadle now turns to Kurapika. “We should get to the point. Kurapika, I’m hoping you understand what we’re asking of you. Mizai and I are already taking a substantial risk by visiting the 14th Prince’s quarters, given the strained relations between the Hunter Association and the Kakin royal family. The fact that we’re even here is proof enough of the crucial nature of this mission, in the eyes of the Zodiacs.”

“I understand,” Kurapika responds. “You need me to capture the traitor and take him back here for questioning. You’re hoping that my current embroilment in the Succession War will conceal the Hunter Association’s involvement in the apprehension. I can only do something as brazen as this in the guise of war strategy.”

“That’s exactly right.” Cheadle glances over at Mizaistom.

“I told you he was a quick study.” Mizaistom is smiling with pride.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Kurapika says. “Why are you even risking a visit to the 14th Prince’s quarters in such volatile circumstances? Couldn’t you have sent a delegate? Presuming that they haven’t already looked into my background and identified my link with the Zodiacs, surely the Chairman’s actual physical presence here will have tipped them off by now?”

“Cheadle and I were already visiting the first tier for a meeting with King Nasubi,” Mizaistom explains. “It was a simple enough matter to take a detour to the 14th Prince’s quarters after checking and double-checking that we weren’t being monitored or followed, whether through Nen abilities or through manual tracking skills.”

“That’s one thing we have in our favor,” Cheadle says. “To prevent inciting a panic, the princes’ camps weren’t informed about this, but apparently the security cameras in the first tier have been disabled for well over a week now.”

Kurapika looks somewhat amused. “The 14th Prince’s camp was already privy to that information, actually.”

Cheadle is taken aback. “Really? Since when?”

Hisoka speaks in a singsong voice. “Since I threw all the cameras and surveillance equipment in the control room aboard. You’re welcome!”

Cheadle stares at him. “ _You’re_ the one responsible for the unsolved homicides and theft in the first tier control room . . .?” She hesitates, then sighs. “No, we can’t afford to worry about this now. Hisoka, are you interested in lending your strength to this mission? Kurapika said that you two were a package deal, after all. This may be a chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of the Hunter Association.”

“Why, I’d be offended if you didn’t ask me to tag along. After days and days of dreary peace, I’m _yearning_ to wage a war in a place where my chaos is actually wanted. Your official endorsement will only make this bloodshed sweeter.” Hisoka licks his lips.

Cheadle sighs again. “We simply don’t have the luxury of choice right now. . . . Hisoka, I’m officially endorsing you to fulfill the basic requirements of this mission. First, capture the traitor. Second, take the traitor back to the 14th Prince’s quarters. Embellish the specifics as you wish, but any undesirable consequences arising from such embellishments are all on your head. Understand?”

Hisoka’s smile is ironic. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Will we be working within a certain time frame?” Kurapika inquires.

Mizaistom nods. “During the meeting with King Nasubi earlier, Cheadle and I deliberately muddled the agenda, with the intention of scheduling a follow-up meeting sooner rather than later. Complete the mission before the follow-up meeting, so that we can come over to interrogate the traitor once it concludes.”

“When is the follow-up meeting set?” Kurapika asks. “And how long do these meetings with the king typically last?”

“The meeting will take place two days from now, at four o’clock in the afternoon,” Mizaistom replies. “As for the duration, about forty-five minutes, at the longest.”

Kurapika thinks about this for a bit. “It’s better if we complete the mission just in time for your arrival. I don’t wish to distress Queen Oito by housing an enemy within the 14th Prince’s quarters for hours and hours, without any adequate explanation to offer her.”

“All right. I have no issue with that. Well then.” Cheadle stands up, indicating that the meeting has concluded. “The Zodiacs are leaving it to you, Kurapika, Hisoka.”

As Mizaistom also stands, Leorio pipes up, “How about me? Aren’t you forgetting about me? I’m coming along too!”

Already by the door, Cheadle spares him a backward glance. “Didn’t I tell you to wait here? You can’t go back to the medical ward. Not yet, anyway.”

Leorio’s voice is adamant. “I’m not talking about leaving the 14th Prince’s quarters! I’m talking about accompanying Kurapika on the mission! I’ll help capture the Hunter traitor!”

Leaning against the door, Cheadle exchanges a meaningful look with Mizaistom.

Mizaistom adopts a measured tone, as if speaking to a fussy child. “Leorio, that’s not the reason why you’re staying behind. This is a high-risk mission. We need you to render medical aid to Kurapika or Hisoka if they’re injured in the process. If you go along with them, that would only defeat the purpose of your presence here.”

Leorio attempts to reason with him. “But there are lesser chances of injuries in the first place if more people are helping out, right?”

Cheadle’s voice is soft, but there’s an authority behind her words that Leorio recognizes from their long days together in the medical ward. “Leorio, you and I both know that you’re not a fighter. Your strength lies in caring for people. Rather than taking or derailing lives, you can save them. There’s absolutely no shame in that. In fact, that’s the most noble job of all.”

Still insistent on joining the mission, Leorio glances at Kurapika, hoping for his friend’s support, but Kurapika is only gazing into the middle distance, fiddling with the chains on his hand.

Leorio glares down at the table, truly pissed now. He doesn’t say anything more, but once the others have left, he calls out to Kurapika before he too can exit the kitchen.

Kurapika turns back to him. “What is it?”

“Sit down. I need to talk to you.”

Kurapika stares out the doorway, as if contemplating escaping, but he eventually closes the door. “Fine.”   


Leorio can’t miss the misery in Kurapika’s expression as he takes his seat again, which only fuels his annoyance even more. “You! Why didn’t you stand up for me when Cheadle and Mizaistom were ganging up on me? We were just talking about this last night! Weren’t you as excited as I was? Didn’t you think that a mission together would be fun?”

Kurapika narrows his eyes. “This is serious business. It’s not supposed to be fun.”

“I — I know that! You know what I mean! I want to go with you, so take me along! The other Zodiacs don’t need to know!”

“I can’t do that,” Kurapika says firmly. “Now that I’m equipped with a full understanding of the factual circumstances, I can’t help but agree with the Chairman and Mizaistom. Leorio, your place in the mission is right here, doing what you do best.”

“You’re just like them! You’re looking down on me too!”

Kurapika is ticked off by the suggestion. “Now that is just blatantly untrue. I have never and will never look down on you. Leorio, you know how I feel about you. It’s for my own selfish reasons that I don’t want you to tag along.”

“What selfish reasons?” Leorio demands.

Kurapika’s expression is deadly serious. “If you’re there, I won’t be able to concentrate and perform my job to the best of my ability. I’d be distracted — I’d be beside myself worrying about you, trying to protect you. I can’t risk getting you hurt in a war that you never signed up for. I mean it. I can’t risk it.”

“Why assume I’ll get hurt in the first place? Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not about trust.”

Leorio waves his hands around, frustrated. “Argh! You’re always saying that! But that’s what it really comes down to, right? You just don’t trust me! You don’t trust me with the truth, don’t trust me with touching you, don’t trust me to stay by your side!”

Kurapika sighs. “Leorio, come on. You’re just twisting everything I’m saying now.”

“I just can’t believe you! I can’t believe you would trust the likes of Hisoka, but not trust me!”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “Hisoka? He’s a wholly different story. As I’m sure you know, Hisoka's offensive strength is way beyond either of ours combined. This mission won't work in the first place if he's not a part of it.”

Leorio is more pissed than ever. “Tch. So that’s why you don’t want me. I’m not strong enough for you. I need to be stronger. Stronger than Hisoka, even.”

“You heard what Chairman Yorkshire said earlier, right? There’s more than one way to be strong. Hisoka may be physically stronger than you, but you far outclass him in almost every other way.” Kurapika’s voice gets softer now. “And I can never let all your worth go to waste.”

There’s a tutting by the door. They both turn to see Hisoka leaning on the doorframe, previously unnoticed by either of them. 

“What a naughty boy,” Hisoka says. “Should you really be insulting someone once they’ve left the room?”

Kurapika snorts. “Who’s insulting you? I just sang the praises of your physical strength. I defended the honor of your diamond-hard abs, don’t worry.”

Hisoka smirks. “That smart mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble one of these days. Let’s go, pretty boy. Let’s regroup. We need to formulate a plan, and all that jazz.”


	17. Enlightened homosexual relations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

In the employees’ bedroom, Kurapika and Hisoka regroup. 

Lying on his back, Kurapika tries to hammer out the details of their mission to storm the 6th Prince’s quarters. “Since the Zodiac Twelve is resisting outside involvement beyond its own sparse membership, we can leave the other guards here in the 14th Prince’s quarters to protect Prince Woble and Queen Oito. Yes, I suppose we can trust them to do that much.”

Hisoka is moving on top of Kurapika as he talks. He’s wildly bucking his hips, causing the bedsprings beneath their connected bodies to creak.

Kurapika’s eyes wander over the ceiling. “Of course, we can’t discount the possibility of one of the members of the 6th Prince’s camp escaping our clutches and attempting a counterattack on the 14th Prince’s camp. To prepare for such a contingency, we can assign Hanzo to guard the entrance. While he’s never revealed his Nen abilities to me, I’m certain that he’s strong enough to defeat most surprise visitors. You rate Hanzo’s power level in the 70-plus range, don’t you?”

Hisoka doesn’t respond. He’s too preoccupied with grunting in time with the slapping sounds of skin on skin.

Sighing somewhat, Kurapika pushes back his hair with his chained hand. “Melody, we can leave in charge of watching over the queen and the prince. She’s Queen Oito’s personal favorite — or at least her second favorite — among the guards. But more importantly, her Emitter-type Nen ability enables her to instantly incapacitate anyone who manages to get too close, which is immensely useful as a last resort.”

Hisoka is panting now as luxurious waves of pleasure begin to radiate all over his body.

Kurapika absentmindedly touches Hisoka’s face, and the hum of urgent breath stirs the chains wrapped over his fingers. “As for Bill, he’s undoubtedly invaluable for support purposes. His role can be more flexible. With his Enhancer-type Nen, he can either bolster the external defense provided by Hanzo, or fortify the internal security functions administered by Melody, depending on how he reads the situation. While he may appear wishy-washy, his sound judgment has actually saved my skin numerous times.” He pauses for a moment. “Yes, that seems about right.”

He finally meets Hisoka’s eyes above him. The expression there is intense. Burning, even.

“How does that sound, Hisoka? What do you think?”

Hisoka can’t talk. He can’t do much of anything else as he continues riding Kurapika. When he starts to stroke his own cock, Kurapika slaps his hand away at once.

“Don’t do that,” Kurapika scolds him. “Tonight, I want you to come just from what I’m doing to your ass. Pure anal pleasure. I want you to appreciate and understand what you do to me whenever you fuck me. Can you try that for me?”

Hisoka nods eagerly. He shivers in anticipation as Kurapika reaches out to get a firm grip on his hips. 

Kurapika starts ramming upward, drawing ragged moans from Hisoka’s throat. Seeing the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his lover’s expression, the thinking mode _finally_ switches off in Kurapika’s brain. 

Growling, Kurapika lunges forward to flip their bodies over. On top of Hisoka now, he maintains a steady rhythm of long, deep thrusts until Hisoka arrives at his long-awaited climax. 

Eyes hungry, Kurapika licks the semen that has reached Hisoka’s muscular chest. He’s yearning to savor its taste before it cools.

As Hisoka sighs, satiated now, Kurapika permits himself to relax the pace of his thrusting, wanting to take his time for his own orgasm.

Hisoka waits for his head to clear before he commences critiquing Kurapika’s plan. “You’re getting caught up in nothing but superfluities here. You’ve focused too much on maintaining the defensive capabilities of the 14th Prince’s camp that you’ve completely neglected to consider our offensive strategy. That’s where the real trouble lies, right?”

“Right,” Kurapika mumbles as he continues fucking Hisoka slowly. An early-morning, rainy-day type of fucking.

“Listen here,” Hisoka says, “the plan for when we arrive in the 6th Prince’s quarters is simple. There are only two steps because I don’t like to overcomplicate things like you do.”

“Two steps, yes.” A particularly potent frisson of pleasure causes Kurapika to close his eyes, but he opens them again when Hisoka stops talking.

Hisoka waits for Kurapika to concentrate before he resumes speaking. “First, you restrain the traitor. Hold him down for me. Got that?”

“Got it.” Kurapika can only manage these short, blunt replies. He’s close now.

“Second, get out of my way and _stay_ out of my way until I kill everyone we don’t need. Understood?”

Kurapika’s only response is a strangled groan as he finally comes, pouring his liquid warmth inside the body beneath him. 

Kurapika pulls out as gently as he can, then collapses on the bed next to Hisoka. For about a minute, he breathes hard, saying nothing. He then rolls over to his side to prop up his head on his palm. 

Kurapika’s expression is solemn. “Don’t hurt Master Izunavi.”

“Which one is Izunavi again?”

“The other Pro Hunter, aside from Giuliano. I’m serious, Hisoka. I won’t forgive you if you so much as lay a hand on him.”

Hisoka thinks about this for a second, then shrugs. “Fine, I won’t. I’ll spare the two Hunters and kill the rest.”

“Do you really need to kill them?”

“Yep,” Hisoka says, his tone matter-of-fact. “If I don’t kill them now, they’ll only cause problems later. “

“What kinds of problems?” Kurapika asks.

“They’ll come here, to the 14th Prince’s quarters, to seek revenge for our dishonor upon the 6th Prince. You should know better than anyone by now — the desire for revenge is unquenchable. They won’t stop until they’ve hit us as badly as we’ve hit them.”

“But can’t you just . . . incapacitate them?”

Hisoka smiles indulgently at the pleading tone in Kurapika’s voice. “Incapacitate them how? Chop their legs off?”

“How about just breaking their legs? Or even their arms? There are countless ways to make your enemies bleed without killing them, you know.”

“Even with broken legs, they can still hobble all the way here.”

“But they won’t be a threat to us by then,” Kurapika explains.

“Hmph. I don’t want to do a sloppy job. I want to complete this mission as cleanly as possible.” Hisoka pulls the blanket over his own naked body and closes his eyes.

“You’re sleeping already? We’re still talking.”

“We can talk tomorrow,” Hisoka mutters, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m not as accustomed as you are to having my ass plunged like a man’s own personal toilet. How you can even manage to go for second, third, and fourth rounds after an activity this draining . . . I’ll never understand. You’re nothing short of a monster. I’m convinced.”

Hisoka feels a hand patting his abdomen over the blanket.

Kurapika’s voice is soothing. “Looks like we’ve found the most effective exercise for your eight-pack. Congratulations, Hisoka. You’ve just graduated into bottoming, the most enlightened form of homosexual relations. There’s no going back for you now.”

“In your dreams,” Hisoka murmurs.

“Sweet dreams, Hisoka.”

Something impossibly soft brushes against Hisoka’s cheek. Did Kurapika just . . . kiss him?

There’s a shift in the weight on the bed as Kurapika gets up. A rustling of clothes, footsteps, then the sound of a door swinging shut.


	18. Laundry list of disastrous side effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Leorio and Melody play with Prince Woble in the living room. 

Sitting on the sofa, Melody allows the prince to crawl the length of the cushions, then gently repositions the waddling body back at the starting point, only to watch her repeat her progress, over and over again.

Sitting down on the floor, Leorio hovers close by to make sure that he can catch the baby if she ever teeters off from safety.

“Are you certain that you’re not interested in joining Hanzo’s and Bill’s card game in the kitchen?” Melody asks Leorio. Her voice is deliberately energetic, in contrast to her typically soft and measured manner of speaking.

“Was that really a game? All I saw was an exchange of hostilities over the kitchen table. Guess the real war was inside the 14th Prince’s quarters all along!” Leorio’s response is cheerful, clearly at odds with the relentless frustration that Melody senses in his heartbeat.

Melody should, perhaps, inquire further into that discrepancy. But all she can bear to do at the moment is continue talking, fast and loud, in a vain attempt to drown out the noise of Kurapika’s and Hisoka’s spiralling descent into degeneracy. 

“Oh, yes.” Melody giggles, and the sound is eerily unlike her usual self. “Sometimes, Hanzo’s and Bill’s constant bickering grates on my ears. However, because Kurapika and I are both so introspective and reserved, that sort of brash male energy does wonders to balance out the general mood of the place.”

“Lucky someone thought to bring cards on the voyage. Imagine how boring it would be without them!”

“Those are Hisoka’s cards, actually. They’re probably . . . the _only_ good things to come out of his newly sworn allegiance to the 14th Prince’s camp.”

When Leorio grimaces, Melody regrets mentioning Hisoka at all. Leorio doesn’t say anything more for a while. He turns his attention to Prince Woble, who is now burying her hands between the sofa cushions, with all the excitement of a prospector digging for gold.

“Don’t, Prince Woble,” Leorio chides. “Don’t touch. Dirty. Bad for you.”

Leorio gently transfers Prince Woble to his lap, where the prince beats her chubby fists against his thighs. She laughs, perhaps thinking it’s a game. Smiling down at her, Leorio extracts a certain dusty _something_ , which the prince has just unearthed from between the sofa cushions, from where it’s now trapped inside her fist.

Leorio inspects the mysterious object for a bit, then his entire demeanor transforms in the space of a few seconds. Melody listens, alarmed, as his heartbeat is taken over by pure chaos.

What is it that Leorio has found? Why the sudden shadows passing over his face, why the discordant rhythm thrumming inside his rib cage?

Melody is just about to voice her concern, when Kurapika comes out from the employees’ bedroom. Once he sees that both Melody and Leorio are watching him, he gets a flustered look on his face and quickly tucks his shirt into his trousers.

Kurapika seems ready to escape from the unwanted scrutiny, but just then Leorio swiftly passes Prince Woble over to Melody, stands up, and addresses him.

“Kurapika, favor?”

Kurapika turns to Leorio. “What do you want?”

Leorio reaches into his pocket, then waves a pack of cigarettes at him. “I’m dying for a smoke. Know a place? I can’t light up here, obviously. There’s a baby and all.”

Kurapika hesitates, running his index finger over his bottom lip. “Hmm. I may have an idea, but are you okay with going outside? It’s dangerous out there, as you know.”

Leorio walks toward him. “I don’t care right now. Show me where.”

Kurapika glances at Melody. “Melody, we’re heading out for a bit. Hisoka is retiring early for the night, but if you need him for anything, just throw a pillow toward his head. He should wake right up.”

Melody has to smile at this. “That sounds like the perfect way to ensure an instantaneous death via a Joker card to the face. I’m sure we’ll manage fine without you or Hisoka, so take as long a break as you need, all right?”   


Kurapika smiles back. He nods at her, then he and Leorio turn to leave.

As they’re walking silently down the hallways of the first tier, Kurapika observes Leorio. He’s walking stiffly, his eyebrows furrowed, obviously deep in thought.

Leorio isn’t about to pick another fight, is he? What was their most recent argument about again? Too much sex, too much collapsing, too much risking his life for cigarettes, too much carelessness with the bandages, not enough touching, not enough trusting. . . . At this point, he can barely keep track of Leorio’s countless issues with him. 

Kurapika’s ears prick as he detects a potentially hostile sound coming from the end of the hallway. He stops walking, motioning for Leorio to do the same, but Leorio is so lost in his own head that he just continues marching forward.

Kurapika shoots out his arm to grab the back of Leorio’s shirt, stopping the man in his tracks. Leorio stares, shocked that Kurapika _almost_ touched him.

Kurapika puts a finger to his lips, requesting silence, then points toward the direction from where they just came. After they’ve put a fair amount of distance between them and the sound, Kurapika feels like it’s safe enough to whisper, “I heard something suspicious back there. We’ll take the long way around instead.”

Soon enough, they reach Kurapika’s desired destination — an inconspicuous silver door at the end of a hallway. Kurapika presses his ear against the metal to verify whether the room is empty, then pulls the door open.

They both enter a tiny room, silver all over, and so chilly that their breaths come out in little white puffs.

There’s a faint humming sound, as if the room is alive and waiting for an opportunity to swallow them whole.

Leorio looks around. “A freezer?”

“Close. You can get ice here.” Kurapika points to a counter on the other side of the small room. “Of course, almost no one ever comes here anymore. During the first week of the voyage, one of the princes’ employees was found here, lying naked on the floor, mysteriously disemboweled.”

Leorio looks in horror down at the floor, as if expecting to still see puddles of blood. “Eh?! Freaky. . . .”

“Indeed. Following that incident, all the princes’ camps suddenly developed a fondness for room-temperature beverages.”

Shuddering, Leorio lights up a cigarette. “I’m smoking so I’ll be fine, but will you be okay? This place is freezing. . . .”

Kurapika shrugs, resisting the urge to rub his own arms to bring back some warmth. “It’s not so bad. I occasionally come out here alone, whenever my head feels like it’s about to explode from the pressure.”

“Pressure, huh . . . pressure over what?”

Kurapika shrugs a second time. “Obligations, duties, responsibilities. Boring shit like that. It’s not important.”

“Then . . . do you ever think about depressing shit like this?”

Still sucking on his cigarette, Leorio holds up a dusty strip of paper, somewhat crumpled.

“You probably know all about this,” Leorio says, his face obscured in smoke. “It’s in your handwriting, after all.”

Kurapika leans in to squint at what Leorio is showing him. It’s difficult to read the words when he’s exhaling white puffs at a rate that probably isn’t good for him. 

His eyes widen as he finally recognizes what Leorio has discovered. It’s the torn portion of his message to Mizaistom, which contains the truth about Emperor Time — the ability’s pernicious side effects, as well as its devastating impact on his lifespan.

Suppressing the urge to scream, Kurapika smacks his chained palm against his own face. His voice comes out muffled. “Shit. Did I actually forget to throw it away? Just how careless have I been lately. . . .”

Kurapika can hear Leorio talking, consulting the strip of paper.

“Migraines, intense fatigue, and fainting episodes. For every second that your eyes turn scarlet and Emperor Time is activated, you lose an hour of your life.”

Kurapika lowers his chained hand to meet Leorio’s eyes. “You don’t have to read what I wrote back to me. I already know how much Emperor Time has fucked me over.”

“Well, of course you know all about it. It’s _your_ damn ability. But did it never occur to you to mention _any_ of this to me? This laundry list of disastrous side effects?”

“Why should I mention any of that to you? It’s none of your business.”

Abruptly furious, Leorio wildly waves his arms around, raining ash all over Kurapika’s suit. “None of my business?! Don’t you even dare! Kurapika, _anything_ that hurts you is my goddamn business! That’s the way it is! And that’s the way it’s always going to be! Better get used to it!” He pauses, fuming. “Ugh. Why does every single conversation with you always turn into a shouting match. . . .”

“You’re the one who’s always shouting. . . .”

Leorio takes a drag, then sighs heavily, billowing out smoke. “I know. Goddamn it. Sorry, Kurapika. I don’t mean to keep doing this. It’s just. . . . Just tell me. Tell me how much Emperor Time has already cost you. Tell me how much time you’ve lost.”

Kurapika crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s the point? What’s done is done. Knowing something like that won’t change a damn thing now.”

“I still want to know.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends? Because I care about you? Why do I even need to explain this?” Leorio takes a deep breath. “Listen, Kurapika . . . I just want to share a bit of your pain. Even the _tiniest_ bit. All I’m looking for is a chance. Is that too much to ask?”

Kurapika remains evasive. “I’d rather spare you from that knowledge. I lose enough sleep thinking about this. The _last_ thing I need is for you to waste your time worrying about this too. . . .”

Leorio irritably crushes out his cigarette in a pocket ashtray. “Just cut the bullshit, Kurapika. Do you trust me or not?”

Kurapika sighs. “I trust you.”

“Then tell me.” Leorio’s voice is determined. “How much time have you lost?”

Kurapika gazes ahead, watching the white wisps of his own breath. “The thing is, I don’t really have an answer to that question. Even if I _wanted_ to tell you, I myself don’t know the answer. Look, I was a temperamental brat as a child. In many ways, I’m still the same person now. My eyes have flashed scarlet a greater number of times than I can plausibly count.”

“Then . . . recently? How many times have you turned your eyes red, recently?”

“How recently are we talking about? Within the past two years that we’ve known each other, there was the time that I was training with Master Izunavi. Under Master’s tutelage, I had to learn how to trigger the scarlet eyes at will. I also had to hone the abilities of four different chains, each of which either required or strongly benefited from the activation of Emperor Time. So, of course, my eyes were pretty consistently scarlet within that training period. That took six months.”

Looking stricken, Leorio listens silently.

Kurapika continues talking, on a roll now. “Then consider that time in Yorknew City, and all my various dealings with. . . .” His eyes narrow in disgust. “With that _scum_ of the earth. During my battle and subsequent murder of their physically strongest member, then during the hostage exchange involving their boss . . . since I had to use Chain Jail and Judgment Chain, my eyes were constantly scarlet for those stretches of time. You were there for the latter, weren’t you? You know that the hostage exchange took hours to negotiate and complete.”

“I remember . . . you collapsed right after. Melody and I took care of you together. We nursed you back to health.”

Kurapika nods. “Well, now you know why.”

Leorio’s eyes are wide with terror now. “How many _years_ has all of that cost you . . .?”

Kurapika gazes down at the floor. He gives it a minute before he speaks again. “I find that the best way to deal with this issue . . . is to just not think about it. This is why, more and more often lately, I’m looking for ways to simply turn off my brain.”

“Okay, okay.” Leorio shakes his head, as if hoping to clear it before the gloom can truly set in. “Let’s just move on from all that. You’re right. It’s too goddamn depressing. Let’s focus on right here, right now. Kurapika . . . you told me you collapsed three times since the voyage started. Does that mean you’ve been overusing Emperor Time lately too?”

Groaning, Kurapika sinks to the floor and presses his face against his knees. Perhaps it’s pointless, after all, to mechanically rattle off all these gory details in an attempt to deter Leorio from further exploring the deepest and darkest recesses of his mind. The man’s determination to hear the absolute worst of it is unwavering.

He hears Leorio settle on the floor next to him, cautious not to make contact. “Kurapika? Talk to me. Please.”

Kurapika keeps his face buried behind his knees. “Are you sure you want to know? Once you hear about this, you can’t unhear it anymore. It’s not pretty. Trust me.”

“I want to know, no matter how bad it is. Tell me everything.”

Kurapika lifts his face, looking at Leorio with a resigned expression now. “The first two times I collapsed . . . I failed to deactivate Emperor Time beforehand, which essentially meant that the _exponentially accelerated_ countdown to my death was continuously running as I slept. The first time it happened, I counted twelve hours in total. Five years of my life. The second time, about six hours. Two and a half years of my life.”

“Then . . . seven and a half years?”

Kurapika shakes his head. “That may not be the worst of it. The third time I collapsed . . . here’s where it gets tricky. Remember what Hisoka said back then? He said that I woke up briefly from my fainting spell to threaten him while my eyes were scarlet. While I don’t remember it —”

“I remember it. I was there. I watched you threaten him.”

“Then do you remember whether my eyes were still scarlet, at the exact moment that I fainted again?” Kurapika asks him.

“I . . . I can’t be sure. I was carrying you on my back, so it was hard for me to see you.”

“When I finally woke up a day later, I asked you whether my eyes were scarlet upon waking, remember? You told me that they weren’t. However, thinking back on it now, I woke up before you did. There was still a chance that I had kept Emperor Time activated as I slept, then unknowingly deactivated it during my disoriented state upon waking. And if _that_ was what happened . . . I was out for an entire day, so I may have lost roughly ten years of my life, just for that one incident.”

“Ten years?!” Leorio’s yell is deafening in such a small space.

Overwhelmed with the remembrance of it, Kurapika rests his face against his knees again. “Therefore, at the very worst, I may have lost seventeen and a half years since the beginning of the voyage. No. That’s not even the worst-case scenario. I haven’t even counted all those instances when I had to use Emperor Time for various wartime purposes. Not to mention all those times that I, in my infinitely counterproductive wisdom, permitted Hisoka to provoke me into it. . . .”

Kurapika hears a wet, choking noise. When he looks up, he sees that Leorio is crying. His big fat tears are crumpling his face into a near unrecognizable state.

“Leorio. . . .”

“It was my fault!” Leorio gasps out. “The third time you collapsed — that was my fault! I pushed Cheadle to call that meeting! I pushed her to force you to attend! All because I wanted to see you!”

“There’s no way that was your fault,” Kurapika protests. “You didn’t know the truth about Emperor Time, and you didn’t know that I was feeling ill back then. Besides, no one forced me. I _chose_ to attend that meeting. I . . . I wanted to see you too, even though I already knew that I was too sick to assist the Zodiacs in any meaningful capacity.”

“But you did assist the Zodiacs!” Leorio cries out. “You used the Dowsing Chain — with your eyes red the entire goddamn time — to help them find the Hunter traitor! Just how long were you and Mizaistom going through those videos of suspects? At least thirty minutes! I know! I was keeping track because I was worrying about you! That’s even more time that you’ve wasted! All because of me and my big mouth! I gave Cheadle the idea to use your ability! I —”

Kurapika can’t take this anymore. He can’t take watching Leorio cry and blame himself like this. What kind of terrible monster must he be, to make his favorite person in the entire living world suffer this much?

Kurapika closes the distance between them, hugging Leorio as hard as he can. The moment their bodies come into contact, Leorio immediately shuts up.

Once Leorio gets over his shock, he’s stammering, in total panic now. “Kurapika, didn’t you say — didn’t you make me promise —”

“It’s okay, Leorio. It’s okay.”

Leorio tentatively wraps his arms around him. When Kurapika doesn’t pull away, Leorio tightens his hold, his reassuring warmth bombarding the unseen goosebumps all over Kurapika’s slender arms. 

Leorio’s copious tears are soaking through Kurapika’s blazer, seeping all the way to his button-down shirt. 

“Kurapika, I . . . I really missed touching you.”

“I’ve missed this too,” Kurapika murmurs.

“Urgh! Why am I even crying? Am I a goddamn baby?!”

“Just cry. Cry as much as you want, okay? I’m here. I’ll hold you.”

Leorio sounds indignant. “But you should be the one crying, not me! I should be the one comforting you! I . . . I just can’t believe you’ve been shouldering something this heavy. All alone, all this time. . . .”

With this, Leorio begins to bawl in earnest. Kurapika rubs his back to soothe him, making cooing and shushing sounds all the while, until the sobbing eventually subsides to sporadic sniffling.

When Leorio speaks again, his voice has a nasal quality to it. “Kurapika, those noises you’re making . . . they’re too freaking cute. Stop. My heart can’t take it.”

“Hmm? Good thing I learned the language of baby talk to communicate with Prince Woble, am I right?”

“I hate you,” Leorio growls, hugging him even tighter.

Kurapika smiles. “Sure you do.”

“You know, if I realized this was all it would take for you to touch me . . . I would have cried in front of you long ago. Now that I know this is the best way to get you to hug me, be prepared. Better get used to my ugly crying face.”

“No. No way. I support you crying whenever you feel like it, but I forbid you from crying because of me ever again. This is really the last time. No more crying over your bothersome friend, understand?”

Leorio’s voice is petulant. “If I want to cry over you, I’ll cry over you! You can’t stop me!”

Kurapika chuckles. “Why are you saying that like it’s a threat?”

Leorio pulls away a bit to look at him. Smiling gently, Kurapika wipes Leorio’s damp face with his palm.

Leorio glances at Kurapika’s hand, then catches it with both of his own. He examines Kurapika’s fingers.

“You have a hand fetish, don’t you?” Kurapika teases. “You’re always looking at my hands. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Sometimes . . . it’s easier for me to know how you’re feeling about me, at any given moment, when I check your right hand. Rather than your face.” After a pause, Leorio nevertheless raises his eyes from Kurapika’s hand to his face. “Kurapika . . . I know I look like a total disaster right now, but I’m dying to kiss you.”

Kurapika quietly considers this. Should he? He _knows_ he shouldn’t, but. . . .

Kurapika leans in, his approach slow, tentative. He watches as Leorio screws his eyes shut, his body tensing up as he waits for their mouths to connect.

Kurapika plants soft kisses over each of Leorio’s closed eyelids, then moves down to start kissing his neck.

With a gasp, Leorio yanks Kurapika’s body on top of his lap. Kurapika feels Leorio’s hardness jutting out against his own leg. Already . . .? He’s this hard already?

Kurapika trails his lips over Leorio’s collarbone, his neck, his jaw. He lavishes Leorio’s salty skin with breathy kisses, plus the occasional nip of teeth.

When Leorio tries to unbutton his shirt, Kurapika grips his wrists and pins them against the wall. He tilts his head and begins to suck on the sensitive skin of Leorio’s neck.

“ _Fuck_ , Kurapika. Feels so good.”

The voice finally snaps Kurapika out of it. 

Kurapika groans against Leorio’s neck, then forces himself to lean away. He can’t keep doing this. Any more than this, and he definitely won’t be able to stop. He shakes his head, expelling the last traces of what was only a brief and lovely dream. 

Kurapika’s voice, thankfully, contains all the resolve that his body sorely lacks. “I’m sorry, Leorio. I’m done being selfish. I’ll behave again, starting now.” 

“What if I don’t want us to behave?” Leorio challenges. “What if I want us both to go overboard?”

Goddamn it. Why does Leorio have to make this so fucking hard?

Kurapika forces a smile and pats Leorio’s cheek with his hand. “I can’t hurt you again, Leorio. I’ve done that enough for a single lifetime. I’m done.”

Kurapika attempts to dismount from his lap, but Leorio locks his muscular arms around his waist to keep him there.

“Can I please just hold you?” Leorio asks. “I won’t do anything else, I swear. I just want to hold you for a while.”

Oldest trick in the book: ask for more, settle for less. Kurapika already knows this, yet he still finds himself relenting. He just wants to _melt_ against Leorio’s chest. Just this once. After all, he’s already misbehaved this much — why not allow himself one last indulgence?

As Leorio hugs him close, Kurapika listens to his heartbeat. Such a warm and tender rhythm. If only Kurapika can listen to this forever. He closes his eyes now, savoring the sound. 

Maybe . . . maybe in the next life, Kurapika can have something just like this. Something sweet and steady, like Leorio’s soothing presence next to his. 

As demonstrated by the depressing dissection of his extensive history with Emperor Time . . . chances are, he won’t even need to wait that long. Time is running out, everything must come to an end, and all that. He tries to summon the fear, but it won’t come. A silver lining in the midst of a storm, perhaps?

In this bubble, in this golden pocket of time . . . he simply allows Leorio to hold him and show him dreamy glimpses of a better life.


	19. Caved in and beyond salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Violent content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.
> 
> Special thanks to this website, from which I borrowed Hisoka’s jokes: https://bestlifeonline.com/dark-jokes/

It’s the morning of the mission, and Hisoka is already salivating as he anticipates the impending carnage. His brain is but a haze of bloodlust now. He yearns to bend a body over and plow it into oblivion — that should be enough to take the edge off. 

From across the queen’s bedroom, Hisoka stares at his partner and tries to summon the boy to his side with the sheer force of his eyes.

Kurapika, however, is presently preoccupied with performing his role as the virtuous and unfailingly patient teacher to a most eminent royal student. He plays this part to perfection. Why, one would never imagine that, only last night, Kurapika was violently knotting his necktie around his lover’s cock, punishing him for coming too soon.

Sighing, Hisoka exits the queen’s bedroom. He can’t wear out Kurapika just now, in any case. Kurapika needs to save all his energy for later.

Hisoka is in the process of formulating novel ways to amuse himself, when he catches sight of Leorio exiting the bathroom, a half-empty pack of cigarettes in hand. Has he just finished smoking with the shower on?

Hisoka skips over to Leorio’s side. Here he goes. Time to amuse himself.

Leorio recoils from Hisoka’s sudden proximity. “The hell do you want?” he demands.

Hisoka only smiles. “Should you really be this catty with me when I’ve been nothing but generous to you? I’m fully aware that you borrowed my favorite plaything two nights ago, you know?”

“ _Plaything?_ ” Leorio repeats, his voice full of venom. 

Hisoka taps his own neck with a sharp-nailed finger. “Right here. The evidence of your mutual indiscretion. He’s already marking you as his territory, see?”

Once Leorio realizes what Hisoka is talking about, he claps a hand over his own neck to conceal the hickey that Kurapika has left there. In a split second, his entire face is beet red.

Hisoka watches, entertained by the mixture of embarrassment and anger in Leorio’s expression. For a grown man, he sure is laughably easy to fluster. Hisoka is beginning to understand Kurapika’s obsession with this seemingly plain face.

Hisoka snickers. “Now, now. No need to be so shy. I’m not a total psychopath. I know how to share my toys, believe me.”

Palm still clamped over his neck, Leorio glares. “ _Plaything_. _Toy_. Don’t you dare call Kurapika by those words!”

Hisoka shrugs. “They’re simply my preferred terms of endearment. I’ll leave all the _babies_ and the _honeys_ to you. On to more pressing matters. As I’ve said, I don’t have any problem with lending you my favorite toy. Have fun. Go wild. But you need to promise not to return him to me broken.”

Leorio appears outraged. “Wha —?! You’re the one who’s always breaking him, you damn clown!”

“What can I say? It’s hard to get myself to quit when I have a body as resilient as his underneath me, splayed open and ready for the wrecking.”

With a roar, Leorio snatches the collar of Hisoka’s shirt and smacks him against the wall by the bathroom. 

There’s only one expression on Leorio’s face now. Cold fury. “Hurt Kurapika again, and that’s it. It’s over for you.”

Hisoka stares back at him, utterly delighted with his guts. “Just to be clear, I wasn’t talking about _that_ type of brokenness. Besides, you’re reading that boy all wrong. At the end of the day, it’s not his fragility or resilience that you should be worrying about, but your own.” 

When Leorio doesn’t respond, Hisoka pries his hand away from his shirt. Still gripping his wrist, Hisoka leans in to murmur into his ear. “A word of advice, friend to friend? Better start training your ass. If you allow that greedy beast to get carried away, he’ll be tearing into your hole soon enough.”

Leorio leans away, his mouth agape.

“You may or may not already know this,” Hisoka drawls, “but our little friend is surprisingly well-endowed down there.” He lifts Leorio’s hand, surveying it for a few seconds. “Three should do it. Practicing with _at least_ three fingers should prevent him from accidentally ripping you a new one. Now we can’t have _that_ , can we?”

Leorio is still speechless, so Hisoka drops his wrist and begins to walk off.

“Good talk,” Hisoka says, grinning. “Let’s do this again sometime, ’kay? It’s nice to have at least one other friend among the stuffy members of the 14th Prince’s camp.”

With a jaunty wave, Hisoka leaves Leorio to his thoughts.

At four in the afternoon, Kurapika and Hisoka prepare to leave the 14th Prince’s quarters for the 6th Prince’s quarters, in order to carry out the mission to capture Giuliano, the Hunter traitor.

True to his eternally uptight nature, Kurapika drives the rest of the guards up the wall with last-minute instructions. “Hanzo, be absolutely certain to keep the entrance to the 14th Prince’s quarters in your line of sight, at all times. No exceptions.”

Hanzo waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah.”

Kurapika continues talking. “These people that Hisoka and I are intending to confront, they may retaliate by targeting the 14th Prince’s camp, so you can’t let your guard down, not even —”

Hanzo’s eyes flash angrily. “You told me all of that already, like literally an hour ago! Do you think I’ve already forgotten? Are you trying to insult my intelligence?!”

Bill cuts in before Hanzo can commence one of his endless tirades. “We’ll be fine here, Kurapika. You can trust us. We’ll keep Prince Woble and Queen Oito safe.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Kurapika says.

Kurapika then turns to Melody. With an expression laden with meaning, he simply nods at her. She nods back, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

Even though Kurapika is still gazing down at Melody, Leorio pulls him into a hug, unable to hold himself back any longer. Leorio doesn’t care if the others are right there, watching them — he just wants to hold Kurapika as tightly as he can before he leaves.

Kurapika awkwardly pats Leorio’s back a few times, seemingly uncomfortable with the public display of affection.

Over Kurapika’s shoulder, Leorio glares at Hisoka, as if challenging him to protest, but Hisoka only looks amused. Winking, Hisoka holds up three fingers and twirls them playfully in the air.

Ignoring Hisoka’s vulgar implication, Leorio ducks his head to mumble close to Kurapika’s ear. “Be careful out there, okay? Come back to me in one piece.”

“I will, I will.” Kurapika is trying to pull away now, but Leorio won’t let him go. Not yet.

Leorio raises his head, deliberately meeting Hisoka’s eyes now. He’s looking directly at Hisoka as he says, with his voice audible to everyone else, “Do you promise not to return to me broken?”

Not answering the question, Kurapika manages to extricate himself from Leorio’s embrace. His cheeks faintly pink, Kurapika turns to Hisoka. 

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Kurapika says tonelessly. “Let’s go.”

On the way to the 6th Prince’s quarters, Hisoka looks brighter and bouncier than Kurapika has ever seen him.

“Kurapika, Kurapika!”

Kurapika barely manages to suppress a smile. Hisoka’s excitement is almost infectious. “What is it, Hisoka?”

“What is both red and nasty for your teeth?” 

Kurapika just stares, not comprehending.

“A brick!” Hisoka hoots, then dissolves into laughter.

Kurapika sighs, gazing ahead as they continue walking. 

Sure, Hisoka might be a tad too boisterous for an excursion over the first tier’s hallways, but Kurapika doesn’t bother to shush him. As long as he’s by Hisoka’s side, it’s not either of them who’s in danger, but everyone else.

“Kurapika, Kurapika!”

“What now?”

“What’s the final thing to go through a bug’s head as it bangs against the windshield of a speeding bus?”

Kurapika decides that it’s easier to indulge Hisoka rather than ignore him. “What?”

“Its ass!”

As Hisoka roars with laughter, he keeps one eye open, checking on Kurapika’s reaction. Kurapika does crack a smile this time around, which appeases Hisoka somewhat.

“One more joke, Hisoka. Just one more, then I need you to shut up, okay?”

“Okay, have you heard the joke about the man who had his entire left side chopped away with an axe?”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. Oh, this should be good. “I haven’t heard that one, no.”

“That man . . . he’s all right now!”

As Hisoka doubles over, laughing again, Kurapika reaches out to tousle his hair, fondly. 

When Hisoka finally straightens up, Kurapika now fixes him with a serious expression. “Hisoka, remember what I told you two nights ago? Don’t touch the Hunter called Izunavi, no matter what.”

Hisoka is still beaming. “I won’t touch him unless he gives me a reason to.”

Kurapika’s voice is firm. “No. Not even then.”

“Let me guess. . . . Ex-boyfriend?”

“Nen teacher. He’s an important ally of mine.”

Hisoka rolls his eyes. “Eh, how boring. You ever fuck him? You and your raging boner for older men. . . .”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”   


They’ve arrived now at the 6th Prince’s quarters. With no hesitation whatsoever, Hisoka kicks down the door.

By the time that Kurapika follows him inside, Hisoka has already secured his first kill of the day. An unsuspecting male employee of the 6th Prince’s camp is tumbling backward, a razor-sharp playing card splitting his nose cleanly in half.

There’s a single confused beat of silence, then a total commotion follows. Hisoka smiles, expectant, as the members of the 6th Prince’s camp rush recklessly toward the sudden threat that has arrived in their midst.

Kurapika darts around the bodies that are sprinting toward Hisoka. He only has eyes now for the young man with mussed up hair and a vacant expression. Despite all the chaos around him, Giuliano is sitting on a sofa and staring down at a book in his hands.

When Kurapika reaches Giuliano’s side, he points a pistol toward the man’s temple. “Follow me,” Kurapika orders.

He grips Giuliano’s arm to yank him up from the sofa, but at the moment of contact, Giuliano twists away and attempts to seize the gun. When Kurapika doesn’t yield, Giuliano begins to pelt him all over with scrappy fists.

Yes, Giuliano’s punches may be as soft as cinnamon rolls, but the tenacious energy of his windmilling arms is testing Kurapika’s patience. 

Should Kurapika just knock him out? No, not a good idea. Giuliano should ideally remain conscious, so that Mizaistom and Cheadle won’t need to waste time trying to rouse him.

A body launches across the living room and lands on the sofa with a massive thud. Kurapika catches a glimpse of the body’s face, caved in and beyond salvation, before the sofa flips away due to the impact, carrying Giuliano along with it.

As Giuliano stirs on the floor, disoriented, Kurapika dives forward and starts to drag him away to a quieter area. Giuliano thrashes nonstop even as he’s being towed along. 

Kurapika quits pulling Giuliano when they finally reach a wall on the safer side of the 6th Prince’s quarters. The moment Kurapika stops, Giuliano immediately leaps to his feet and again attempts to wrest away Kurapika’s pistol.

Didn’t Hisoka assess Giuliano’s power level at 35 over 100? He’s troubling Kurapika too much for someone who’s supposed to be harmless! 

Kurapika is tempted to activate Emperor Time just to boost his strength so that he can overpower Giuliano more easily. However, the sudden mental image of Leorio’s crying face changes his mind about resorting to the ability.

Summoning all his base-level strength, Kurapika slams Giuliano face-first against the wall. He notices red drops fleck over the wall. He must have broken the man’s nose. 

As Giuliano groans in pain, Kurapika wraps the Dowsing Chain around his wrists, then turns to survey the action around them.

He’s in for a gruesome sight. Already, there’s a row of ten corpses hanging upside down, gummy strings of Nen connecting their ankles to the ceiling. Each throat has been slit with a single card each. From right to left, sequentially, the Ace of Spades all the way to the Ten of Spades.

Blood pours thick and crimson from the wasted bodies. The metallic stench is so overwhelming that Kurapika has to swallow back the bile rising in his throat.

Was Hisoka in withdrawal? After staving off his urge to kill for so long, he’s obviously endeavoring to put on as grand a show as possible.

Izunavi is one of the only members left in the 6th Prince’s camp who’s still putting up a fight. He’s aiming his Emitter-type Nen attacks at Hisoka, who dodges each without so much as breaking a sweat.

“Master Izunavi!” Kurapika calls out, with his hands still pinning Giuliano against the wall. “Just get out of the way! You don’t need to fight! He’s not going to hurt you!”

Izunavi isn’t listening. He doesn’t even seem to hear Kurapika’s voice. He continuously bombards Hisoka with his aura, which takes on the properties of gunfire.

Having swiftly defeated the only other opponent left defending the 6th Prince’s quarters, Hisoka approaches Izunavi now. Hisoka effortlessly parries all the man’s attacks with his Nen-reinforced palm.

Swearing, Kurapika shoves off from the wall to defend his teacher. Still connected to Giuliano by the Dowsing Chain, Kurapika throws himself between the two men who are now squaring off. 

Kurapika pushes Izunavi behind him to shield his body from Hisoka.

Hisoka observes as Kurapika’s dark eyes take on the terror that he so often sees in prey. But Hisoka knows Kurapika well enough by now to recognize that he isn’t fearful for his own life, but for the life of his ally.

Then something happens to make the whole world stop. Or spin. Or stop and spin simultaneously, with Hisoka suddenly sick to his stomach.

Sick, and dying to scream.

Without warning, Izunavi has attacked Kurapika from behind — maiming his student’s right shoulder and back with a blast stronger than any that he’s launched so far.

Caught off guard, with the blow coming from the hand of a person that he trusts with his life, Kurapika falls.


	20. Everything is red now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Violent content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.
> 
> Special thanks to my sister, an orthopedic surgeon, for answering my fracture-related questions with immeasurable patience.

Hisoka dashes forward to catch Kurapika’s body before it can crumple to the floor. He takes a second to check whether the boy is still breathing, then sets him down slowly. Tenderly, almost.

Turning his attention to Izunavi again, Hisoka jerks backward just in time to dodge another burst of Nen, which whistles past the spot where, just a split second ago, his head would have been.

Izunavi prepares to release yet another attack, but just then Hisoka disappears — a blur of fiery hair one second, then gone the next.

Hisoka reappears, quite suddenly, behind Izunavi. Filled with boundless fury, he pins Izunavi’s arms behind his back and methodically breaks them both. He relishes the cracking of the bastard’s bones.

As Izunavi falls, howling in pain, Hisoka notices something odd. Before Hisoka can investigate further, a flurry of movement in his periphery distracts him.

Giuliano, freed now that the chains restraining his wrists have vanished, dives for the pistol that Kurapika dropped upon fainting. Rather than aiming the gun at Hisoka, however, Giuliano presses the barrel against his own temple.

Hisoka flings the Jack of Spades toward Giuliano, who screeches as the card carves straight through his right hand.

Giuliano drops the gun and cradles his palm to his chest. Blood splatters all over his white shirt.

While Giuliano is subdued by his own agony, Hisoka cements his cheek to the ground with a liberal application of Bungee Gum. Hisoka then gets behind him and swiftly snaps both of his arms as if they’re mere toothpicks.

Hisoka stares down at Giuliano, who is now blubbering uselessly against the floor.

Ah, Hisoka wasn’t wrong, after all. This strange case has only gotten stranger.

In the bathroom of the 14th Prince’s quarters, shower steam rises, blending with the streaks of a much darker smoke.

Sitting on the closed toilet, Leorio scratches his hair, his head wreathed in clouds.

He takes special care to inhale deeply, savoring his cigarette all the way down to its filter. As the amber glow fizzles out, he flicks the butt into the bin positioned between his legs.

As if on autopilot, Leorio shakes out another stick from the pack. It’s the very last one. With a world-weary sigh, he lifts his lighter to spark it with his thumb.

Just before he can set the paper aflame, a sound from outside — the swinging of a door, all that Leorio has been waiting for — sends him to his feet.

Spitting out the cigarette from his lips, he’s flying out the bathroom now, banging the door open in his wake.

He almost collides with Melody, who is also on her way to meet the new arrivals. Leorio teeters backward, uttering a quick apology. He then continues bounding toward the entrance, leaving Melody to turn off the shower, which has completely escaped the frantic confines of his mind.

There’s room for only one thought in Leorio’s brain.

“Kurapika?!” Leorio yelps.

Waves of disappointment crash over him when he sees that it’s only Cheadle and Mizaistom.

Mizaistom raises his eyebrows when he spots Leorio. “The meeting with King Nasubi ended early. Kurapika isn’t back yet?”

Leorio shakes his head. He has half a mind now to retrieve his last cigarette from the bathroom floor, but instead he just stands there, biting his lip and thinking hard.

Kurapika is with Hisoka, isn’t he? Sure, Leorio might despise the clown with every fiber of his being, but it’s practically impossible to imagine a stronger ally. Leorio can rely on Hisoka to have Kurapika’s back. In theory, at least.

Why then does Leorio feel so agitated?

He should have insisted on joining the mission! He should have overridden Kurapika’s ridiculous objections! Kurapika kept droning on and on about not wanting Leorio to be hurt, about not wanting to waste all of Leorio’s worth. What did he even mean by that, anyway?

Isn’t Kurapika the one who has been hurting himself and wasting himself, again and again, these past few days? Hasn’t Kurapika been persistently whittling away at his own lifespan, burning through years at a time to achieve his short-term objectives, or worse, to indulge in the briefest flutters of reckless emotion?

Cheadle’s voice jolts Leorio from the tumult of his thoughts.

She’s twitching her nose. “Leorio, why don’t you do these poor souls from the 14th Prince’s camp a favor and take a shower?”

“Eh?!” Leorio is offended. “I’ll have you know that I bathed just this morning!”

Cheadle narrows her eyes. “And you’ve been smoking like a factory since then, I presume?”

Leorio parts his mouth, ready to launch into half-baked attempts to absolve himself, when a clattering by the entrance makes them all turn.

Hisoka is barging into the 14th Prince’s quarters, with three different people draped over his broad shoulders.

Leorio’s heart sinks as he notices the identity of one of the bodies.

“Kurapika!” he yells. He rushes behind Hisoka to check on his friend’s face.

Kurapika is out cold, which is bad enough on its own. What if he activated his scarlet eyes before he collapsed? Is the invisible clock of Emperor Time running again?

No, Leorio can’t worry about this right now. Of more immediate concern is the fact that Kurapika is bleeding profusely all over Hisoka’s back, from yet unknown injuries.

Swinging out his left arm, Hisoka unceremoniously dumps the two other bodies on the floor, which causes everyone standing around the living room to gasp.

Holding Kurapika carefully in place with his right arm, Hisoka marches to the employees’ bedroom, with both Leorio and Melody following closely behind.

Hisoka gently lays Kurapika’s unconscious body, stomach down, over one of the beds.

“He’s seriously injured,” Hisoka says to Leorio. “He took Izunavi’s Emitter attacks to the back and shoulder, at close range. Believing his master to be an ally, he left that entire area of his body unprotected at the moment of impact.”

Melody’s eyes are wide with terror. “No aura over his back at all? That doesn’t sound like him. He’s not typically this careless. . . .”

Hisoka is gazing down, not looking at Melody. “He focused all his aura over his front, highly alert to a perceived threat approaching him.”

Leorio is snipping away at the blood-soaked clothes with scissors to avoid moving Kurapika’s body around. He swallows when he witnesses the mangled state of his friend’s exposed skin.

Leorio gathers aura in his right hand then begins to palpate Kurapika’s back. Ultrasonic waves radiate from his fingertips, and sonographic imagery starts to flicker in his mind’s eye.

Leorio mutters to himself as he assesses Kurapika’s injuries. “Comminuted fractures of the scapula, humerus, thoracic cage. Pulmonary contusions, lacerations, hemorrhage.”

Forcing his voice to remain level, he addresses Melody now. “Please call Cheadle. I need her help for this.”

When Melody leaves, Leorio moves his palm over the lower area of Kurapika’s back. While the skin there is intact, with injuries this extensive, further internal bleeding is a distinct possibility.

Hisoka, who has turned to leave, spins around, seeming to remember something. “When you’re done here, patch up Izunavi too. Kurapika is going to kill me when he discovers what I’ve done to his beloved master.”

“Fuck off,” Leorio says, his voice icy calm.

Hisoka heads out, just as Cheadle and Melody are hurrying into the bedroom.

In the living room, Hanzo and Bill are hovering over Izunavi, unsure about what to do with him. Seems like the jagged bones jutting out from Izunavi’s forearms are deterring them from transferring him anywhere. A wise decision, on the whole.

Mizaistom, on the other hand, is kneeling by Giuliano’s body, tentatively slapping his face in a vain attempt to wake him up.

Mizaistom looks up at Hisoka. “You better start explaining yourself. What in the world happened during that mission?”

When Hisoka glances over at Hanzo and Bill, Mizaistom guesses the reason behind his hesitation. “They’ve already seen too much,” Mizaistom tells him. “By this point, I don’t think it serves any purpose to continue keeping secrets from the members of the 14th Prince’s camp.”

“Suit yourself,” Hisoka says with a shrug. “As for what happened in the 6th Prince’s quarters, it’s not all that complicated. You see, these two chumps. . . .” Hisoka nudges Giuliano’s right hand with his foot, and blood smears against his heeled boot. “They were being Manipulated at the time. Sweetheart that I am, I gave them a wake-up call. It’s tough love, that’s all.”

“Manipulated? How’d you ascertain that?”

“It was a no-brainer. Nen leaves its traces.”

“Who was the Manipulator?” Mizaistom asks.

Hisoka gazes over Mizaistom’s shoulder. He observes as Hanzo and Bill continue to fret over Izunavi. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Whoever the Manipulator was, they didn’t show up.”

“The other members of the 6th Prince’s camp, what happened to them?”

“What do you think happened to them?”

Mizaistom pauses, appearing to absorb the information implied by Hisoka’s rhetorical question. “And 6th Prince Tyson herself? What was her fate?”

Hisoka now recalls the scene of his departure from the 6th Prince’s quarters. It was just like a movie, really. All that drama. All those sickly sweet crescendos of emotion.

On his way out, Hisoka stepped over 4th Queen Katrono, bent over on the floor. The queen was wailing as she clutched the motionless body of her only daughter. At that moment, the Queen of Spades was barely visible — so deeply was it embedded in the prince’s chest.

Hisoka _almost_ spared the 4th Queen then, but he immediately realized that he couldn’t leave any surviving witnesses, not after spilling royal blood.

Hisoka tries to summon a sadistic pleasure at the remembrance, but all he can feel is a directionless rage.

“Dead as a doornail,” Hisoka says to Mizaistom now, “as she should be.”

Mizaistom’s voice is soft. “Yet another pointless casualty in this war. One can only hope that Kakin’s next ruler has the good sense to reform the legislation governing royal succession.”

“Who gives a shit about that. Killing her means one less enemy for Kurapika.”

Mizaistom regards Hisoka quietly for a few seconds. “Kurapika was right to bring you along. Even though your methods were, shall we say, _excessive_ , the fact remains that this mission never would have succeeded without your assistance.”

“Don’t praise me too much. In my eyes, that mission was a spectacular failure.”

“Why? You’ve achieved the basic requirements that the Zodiacs set for you.”

“Screw your requirements. I have my own priorities.” With this, Hisoka starts walking off, heading for the exit again.

“Where are you going?” Mizaistom calls after him.

“Going to get some trophies,” Hisoka says over his shoulder.

When Hisoka steps over the unconscious Izunavi, he has to resist the urge to stomp down on the man’s head. 

It matters not that a disembodied voice — silken smooth, emotionless — influenced Izunavi’s actions back then. Hisoka still yearns to watch this skull burst open like a watermelon, as a small payback for the wretched thing that befell his partner.

Hisoka forces himself to move on. He can’t bear to disappoint Kurapika any further.

As he leaves the 14th Prince’s quarters, Hisoka is murmuring to himself. “Aim for the elder princes first . . . that’s what he told me, right?”

When Hisoka returns roughly two hours later, his clothes have lost every other color. Everything is red now.

Pausing by the entrance, he pops his head through the doorway to survey the situation inside. Mizaistom and the two injured Hunters are gone, but Hanzo and Bill are still there, standing together and conferring in hushed tones. 

On the sofa, Melody sits with Queen Oito, who cradles Prince Woble in her arms. Already, Melody is staring back at Hisoka, no doubt alerted by the heightened havoc of his heartbeat.

Hisoka addresses the entire room with a loud yet melodic voice. “It’s getting late, isn’t it? Time for the queen’s bedtime! Chop, chop!”

The others turn to him in shock. While it is, in fact, too early for Queen Oito to retire for the night, Melody gets up at once to usher away the queen and the prince. Perhaps she recognizes that Hisoka shouldn’t be trifled with, given his current emotional state.

Once Melody closes the door to the queen’s bedroom behind her, Hisoka walks inside, whistling as he goes. He’s lugging a collection of cloth sacks over his shoulder, each sack filled to the brim with curiously lumpy contents.

Hisoka stands in the very center of the living room. Facing Hanzo and Bill, he opens the sacks and turns them over, letting the heads roll.

In utter horror, Hanzo and Bill begin to wordlessly count the decapitated heads now tumbling all over the living room floor. Before too long, they stop keeping track, too sickened to continue counting.

Just as Hisoka has planned, the last heads that fall belong to 1st Prince Benjamin and 3rd Prince Zhang Lei. They land smack dab in the middle of the assortment of queens, royal guards, personal guards, and employees all around them.

Hisoka smiles, delighted by his own impeccable sense of presentation. “ _Voilà!_ ”


	21. Doctor-patient dynamic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

A new day dawns, and Leorio hasn’t slept a single wink. He has spent all night sitting sentinel by Kurapika’s bed, measuring time only by the rise and fall of his friend’s half-mummified back as he sleeps in a prone position.

Kurapika’s every breath is shallow. His brows are furrowed, as if each shatter and scrape across his back spill over into the depths of his slumber.

Just as Leorio’s eyelids begin to droop, a murmuring before him jolts him back into wakefulness.

Caught in the throes of a fitful dream, Kurapika is speaking fast and low in a language that Leorio doesn’t know. Even as his somniloquy runs the whole gamut of syllables and inflections, he keeps coming back to the same word, anchored stubbornly to it no matter how far he wanders — _pairo._

Leorio has no idea what this means. A favorite word of Kurapika’s in the Kurta dialect, perhaps?

The urgency in Kurapika’s voice escalates with every passing phrase. By all indications, the dream has turned into a nightmare now. Leorio wonders whether it’s time to wake him. Which is worse: the echoed trauma behind his eyes or the fresh wounds beyond them?

Unable to decide, Leorio grasps Kurapika’s hand and gives what he hopes is a reassuring squeeze. The smaller hand twitches in Leorio’s larger one, looking for all the world like a dying bird.

Just then, a truth of perfect clarity slams into Leorio’s skull, seemingly out of nowhere. Something which his heart has known for a while now, but which his brain has been slower to process.

Leorio loves Kurapika, doesn’t he? Leorio loves him. 

Not simply in the way that he might love a friend, although of course there’s a lot of that type of love between them too. Leorio loves him in the way that he longs to possess him — with all the greed for proximity and desire for attention that people wrap up in a pretty bow and call romance.

But seeing Kurapika repeatedly run himself into the ground like this — watching from the sidelines as Kurapika dives headlong into disaster after disaster, sometimes even _sleeps with_ them — only to return to Leorio always a bit more broken than before . . . this is truly one of the worst eras of Leorio’s life. If not the worst.

But beyond all this incessant worrying — part and parcel of loving someone who has a habit of falling down and _remaining_ down for hours or even days at a time — even when Kurapika is wide awake, Leorio often can’t understand him. Even when they’re speaking the same language.

Just three days ago, Leorio snatched that rare chance to hold Kurapika close, bridging the complicated distance between them with simple touch. For the most part, Kurapika kept his face hidden against Leorio’s chest. But the few times that Kurapika pulled back his face to gaze up wordlessly at Leorio’s, his eyes always seemed so impossibly far away.

In fact, even when Kurapika himself initiates contact — kissing him, holding him — Leorio has no clue what Kurapika wants from him. With Kurapika, the first touch usually occurs in a fevered rush, but all subsequent contact comes loaded with mysterious motives. What’s that all about?

Is love supposed to feel this way? Rejoicing every time Kurapika pulls him closer, despairing every time Kurapika pushes him away? It’s always a _one step forward, two steps backward_ type of situation with Kurapika. Leorio just wants Kurapika to stay by his side for good. How can Leorio persuade him to stay?

Leorio dips his head down and groans against the bedsheets. “Hah. Kurapika. _Please._ ”

The hand that Leorio is gripping squeezes back, and the endless entreaties of _pairo_ transform into Leorio’s name.

Leorio jerks up his face from the sheets to see Kurapika’s eyes open now, staring right at him. Leorio is momentarily locked in place by the shock of that dark gaze.

Kurapika’s hand reaches for Leorio’s face. When his thumb traces soft circles over the corner of Leorio’s eye, Leorio only then realizes that he’s crying.

Kurapika’s voice is gentle. “These tears aren’t for me, are they?”

“Ah! This . . . this is. . . .” Leorio sighs now. “No, I can’t lie. I _am_ crying over you, but I have a good excuse this time. You almost died.”

Leorio kisses Kurapika’s palm, then straightens up on his chair. He wipes the tears from his eyes before he speaks again.

“Sorry, Kurapika. Did I wake you?”

“Probably for the best. I was having a bad dream.”

Leorio considers asking Kurapika what exactly _pairo_ is, but perhaps compelling him to relive a nightmare isn’t the most sensitive thing to do in this situation.

“How are you feeling?” Leorio asks him.

“Well. Everything fucking hurts. An occupational hazard of almost dying, I suppose.”

“Lucky Cheadle was here yesterday,” Leorio says. “Even on her own, she can perform the work of an entire team of surgeons. I’m still observing you though. If your injuries worsen, I’m bringing you to the medical ward right away.”

“Hmm. When I regain some of my energy, I’ll use the Holy Chain on Emperor Time. I’m not confident it can solve everything that’s wrong in this case, but it should help, substantially.”

“Ah! Kurapika, I have to ask. I have to be sure. Before you collapsed, did you —”

Kurapika heads him off. “I didn’t activate Emperor Time before I fainted, no.”

“Your eyes weren’t red? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Leorio blows out a sigh of immense relief.

Kurapika’s dark eyes are now wandering over the next bed. Leorio starts as he just then remembers that they’re not alone in the employees’ bedroom — Izunavi is asleep there too, with both of his arms wrapped in casts.

“Shit. Are Master’s arms broken?”

Leorio glances backward. “Open fractures of the radius and ulna, yeah.”

“Don’t tell me. Did Hisoka do that? How many damn times did I tell him. . . .”

Leorio turns to Kurapika again. “How much do you remember about what happened? Do you know how you got knocked out?”

“I don’t, but I can make an educated guess.” Kurapika stares into space and starts to think aloud. “Judging by the location and extent of my injuries, I can only surmise that it was Master Izunavi who attacked me. Hisoka was probably . . . displeased, so he attacked Master in return. Even so, even despite all this bad blood between them, Hisoka still brought Master back here, and here he lies now, without anyone tasked with guarding or restraining him. That must mean. . . .” Kurapika pauses, his eyes sliding over his teacher again. “Master was under the control of a Manipulative ability at the time, but isn’t anymore.” Kurapika looks at Leorio now. “Am I right?”

“Right on the money.”

Leorio tentatively reaches out to touch Kurapika’s head. When Kurapika doesn’t protest, Leorio begins caressing his hair.

Leorio gazes down admiringly at him. “This giant brain of yours. Will I ever get used to it?”

“Is that why you’re touching my head? Are you actually trying to touch my giant brain?”

Leorio smiles. “Oh, you caught me.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but my brain recently shrunk into the size of a pea. Back in the 6th Prince’s quarters, I already noticed that Master was acting unnaturally, but neglected to connect the dots. I brought this disaster upon myself, really.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Leorio says bracingly. “Giuliano arrived intact in the 14th Prince’s quarters. Well, relatively intact. Isn’t that good news?”

“I know he did. Hisoka was with me. There’s no way Hisoka would ever fail that mission.”

Leorio’s expression turns icy. On paper, Hisoka may have appeared to salvage the mission. However, Leorio knows — and Leorio knows that Hisoka knows — that Hisoka totally bombed the most important objective of all.

But Leorio doesn’t say anything about that. He just continues petting Kurapika’s hair.

Kurapika’s eyes are mild as they watch Leorio. “Even knowing about my pea-sized brain, you’re not going to stop touching my head?”

“Your brain is only half the reason I’m doing this. You like it when I touch your hair, don’t you? The last time you were in pain, this made you feel better.”

Kurapika regards him quietly for a while, then presses his face down on the pillow beneath his head. 

Minutes trickle by, with neither of them speaking.

Has Kurapika fallen asleep again? Just as Leorio is contemplating checking, Kurapika shivers. 

Leorio freezes, observing. Kurapika’s ears are, all of a sudden, a distinct shade of pink. Wondering about this change, Leorio brushes his thumb over Kurapika’s ear.

A muffled whine follows. The blush that colors Kurapika’s ears intensifies into a magenta hue, which is now dispersing visibly over his nape.

Leorio cups his palm over Kurapika’s nape. It emits an enticing warmth, and before he even realizes what he’s doing, Leorio is leaning in and kissing Kurapika’s ear.

Leorio sucks softly on the lobe, the gemstone of Kurapika’s earring prismic and cold against his tongue. When Kurapika whimpers against the pillow, Leorio finds himself leaning in even closer, yearning to elicit more of these seductive sounds.

Leorio has just started to trace the helix with his tongue, when Kurapika gasps and yanks his head away. 

Kurapika looks up at Leorio now. His entire face and neck are glowing red. 

Leorio is dying to snatch up that face and kiss that mouth — has he ever wanted _anything_ quite this desperately before? — but he doesn’t dare.

When Kurapika speaks, Leorio’s desperation is echoed in his voice, but the words are all wrong. “Leorio! Call Hisoka. Please.”

What a punch this lands on Leorio’s heart, leaving him reeling with pain.

“ _Hisoka._ ” Leorio spits out the name like it’s a swear word. “You want me to call _Hisoka_ right now.”

Kurapika nods wildly. “Yes. I need Hisoka now. Please, Leorio.”

“What do you need him for?”

Kurapika looks away. “Stuff. Just stuff.”

After a brief pause, Leorio makes his decision. “No.”

Kurapika’s eyes snap back to Leorio’s face. “No . . .?”

“No, I won’t call Hisoka. I don’t want to. Whatever it is you need, let me do it for you.”

“But you . . . you’re no good. Not for what I need.”

Another jab to Leorio’s chest. It hurts like a bitch, but Leorio keeps his voice strong. “Why am I no good? Explain.”

Leorio hopes to discompose Kurapika with this straightforward demand for an explanation, but Kurapika launches into a spiel right away, as if simply waiting to be asked.

“You see, if I’m like this. . . .” Kurapika gestures toward the state of his own elaborately bandaged torso. “You won’t touch me, right? You won’t take advantage of me. You’d rather avoid this whole doctor-patient dynamic. _Icky,_ you called it. You explained all of that to me, very clearly. I respect you, Leorio, so I want to respect your decision.”

“And Hisoka has no qualms about fucking you when you’re injured or sick.”

“Hisoka has no qualms about fucking anyone or anything, as long as it’s willing.”

Leorio takes a minute to formulate his response. “I’m not a total prude, Kurapika. I know how to relax my rules. Besides, you’re already in so much pain. To add blue balls on top of everything else. . . . There’s no way I can ever be that cruel. Now that you’re under my care, I consider it my duty to ease all your aches for you.” Leorio gets up, sits carefully on the bed, then peels off the blanket from Kurapika’s legs. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it for you.”

When Kurapika doesn’t reply to this, Leorio creeps his hand underneath Kurapika’s waist to unbuckle his belt. He then tugs the trousers and boxers down.

At the first glimpse of Kurapika’s bare buttocks, Leorio immediately begins to harden down there. He tries to appreciate Kurapika’s ass with his eyes for a while, but before too long, he can’t help but touch it. He squeezes both cheeks with his palms. Soft, yet firm.

Leorio feels the bizarre urge to _bite_ into those cheeks. He chews on his bottom lip instead, trying to contain himself.

As Leorio is kneading Kurapika’s ass, Kurapika finally speaks. “Leorio, this isn’t a good idea, okay? It just isn’t.”

“So when it’s with Hisoka it’s a good idea, but when it’s with me, it’s not?”

Kurapika pushes his face against the pillow and suddenly screams — a long and muffled howl, imbued with such raw emotion that it sounds like it might be straining his throat to release it.

Leorio raises his palms at once and watches, wide-eyed.

The screaming only stops when Kurapika twists his head around to glare at Leorio. He’s no longer blushing, not even a little bit. His dark eyes are fierce.

Kurapika’s voice is deadly serious. “Last chance, Leorio. Last chance to get out. Call Hisoka now, or it will be too late for you.”

Leorio stares back steadily. “I’m not leaving. And I’m sure as shit not calling the clown.”

“You’re going to regret this,” Kurapika spits out.

“No, I won’t.”

Kurapika turns toward the front again, so that Leorio can no longer see his face.

“Fuck me then,” Kurapika says bluntly. “No foreplay. Just fuck my ass, hard and fast.”

Leorio’s boner fully springs to life now, poking unpleasantly against his boxers. But Leorio is determined to ignore the selfish demands of his little head. He needs to listen to his big head instead, with its marginally more sensible thoughts.

Leorio slides his hand between the ass cheeks and rubs his index finger against the puckered hole. There’s too much resistance when he tries to stick it in, so he withdraws his hand to coat his fingers lavishly with saliva. As drool drips down his wrist, Leorio is grateful that Kurapika can’t see how sloppy he’s being.

Leorio tries again and succeeds in pushing his finger in, sheathing it all the way.

Kurapika sighs impatiently. “What did I just say? Didn’t I already tell you —”

Leorio interrupts him. “I’ll do everything else you tell me, but I draw the line at hurting you. I’m no expert like you, but even I know that penetrating you with zero preparation is going to hurt like hell.”

It’s Leorio’s first time fingering a man, so he decides to cheat by utilizing his Nen ability. No, this can’t really be called cheating, can it? As long as Leorio can make Kurapika feel good, he’ll call it fair play. A victory.

Leorio is trying to find Kurapika’s prostate gland — that particular part of the male anatomy is supposed to be extremely sensitive, right?

Kurapika is sighing again. “What are you doing now, Leorio? You don’t think I can sense you beaming waves of Nen into my asshole?”

“Hey, don’t knock my technique until you’ve tried it.”

“Wait, did you seriously develop a Nen ability for the sole purpose of maximizing your sexual prowess . . .?”

Leorio chuckles despite himself. “It’s a healing ability, but it has many unexpected benefits. I’ll show you.”

Leorio has found Kurapika’s prostate gland. Taking advantage of the imagery that flickers in his brain, Leorio can deliberately massage every microinch of it, stimulating the collection of nerves there with circular motions.

Kurapika shudders. As Leorio keeps playing with his prostate, Kurapika groans savagely against the pillow.

Leorio eases off for a moment, not wanting to rush Kurapika into his climax. Still using his ability, he then sets off on identifying which specific areas inside will make Kurapika squirm as he brushes against them. Ah, so these are the spots that Kurapika likes. Leorio commits each to memory. These will definitely come in handy later.

Leorio smiles, pleased with Kurapika’s reactions. “Good?”

“ _So good_. You’re a goddamn prodigy, Leorio. One more finger. Come on.”

Leorio inserts another finger. While Leorio now commences a rhythm of gentle thrusts, he continues to focus on wriggling his fingers inside, on exploring Kurapika’s soft wet heat, while not neglecting to tickle Kurapika’s prostate with every stroke.

Kurapika is biting down on the pillow now, his moans sneaking past his teeth.

“Ready for more, Kurapika?”

Kurapika lifts his face from the pillow to choke out his response. “More! Give me more!”

By now, Leorio’s erection is well and truly aching — he’s dying to ram it into Kurapika, or to at least jack himself off, but he forces himself to concentrate on the task at hand.

Leorio slowly pushes a third finger inside to stretch Kurapika even wider — the hole is clamping tightly around his fingers, sucking them all in.

The sheer eroticism of this sight stupefies Leorio for a while, but he eventually manages to speak. “Kurapika, I’m going to try to lift your hips. Tell me right away if the movement is hurting you, okay?”

“Nghh. Okay.”

While his right hand continues fingering, his left hand slowly pulls up Kurapika’s hip. When Kurapika grunts, Leorio pauses.

“Painful?” Leorio murmurs.

Kurapika shakes his head. “Deep. It’s deeper from this angle.”

Leorio repositions his own body behind Kurapika’s, for even better access. He starts to stroke Kurapika’s dick with his left hand, matching the rhythm of the fingers of his right hand.

Kurapika is panting roughly now. As Leorio gradually picks up the pace, Kurapika’s body is tensing up more and more, until he finally reaches his peak.

Kurapika gasps out Leorio’s name, and Leorio curls his left hand over the head of Kurapika’s cock just as it pulses, pumping out thick ropes of cum against his palm.

The second that Leorio withdraws both of his hands, Kurapika’s body gives way and collapses down on the bed. Leorio yelps in alarm — he should have helped Kurapika lower his injured body more gently! 

Leorio checks on Kurapika’s face. “Kurapika? Hey, are you okay?”

But Kurapika has passed out, dead to the world once again.

Leorio grabs an unused washcloth from the bedside drawer. He wipes his own hands, then lovingly wipes down Kurapika’s sticky body.

Just as he sits back on his heels and wonders what to do about his own stubborn boner, a slight movement in the edge of his vision makes him jerk his head sideward.

Over on the next bed, Izunavi’s black eyes are glittering. Wide awake, watching.


	22. Cadence of certainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Under Izunavi’s penetrating gaze, invisible flames swallow up Leorio’s face, and his erection softens instantly, achieving the consistency of jelly.

Leorio can’t believe that he has, yet again, completely forgotten that he and Kurapika weren’t alone. Whenever Kurapika happens to be present in the same room, Leorio’s brain likes to punish him with a psychological state akin to tunnel vision, with potentially serious consequences, as in this specific situation.

Leorio clumsily yanks up Kurapika’s boxers and trousers, trying in vain to preserve his virtue in front of his teacher.

Izunavi waits until Leorio has thrown the blanket over Kurapika’s lower body before he decides to speak. “What a show. I’d clap if my arms weren’t swathed in these casts. You’re not bad at treating injured people, but you’re even better at entertaining them, huh?”

“How long have you been watching . . .?”

“Starting from the part when you began utilizing your Emitter-type Nen ability as a cheap sexual trick.”

Leorio gasps in horror. “That — that’s nearly all of it . . .!”

“Then I was awake for nearly all of it. The two of you weren’t exactly keeping quiet, were you? Especially not this naughty student of mine. He was making so much noise that I thought he would burst my eardrums and increase my medical woes by tenfold.”

Leorio’s mind is whirring overtime. He needs to protect Kurapika’s dignity! This is his priority right now! “That’s not what it looked like! I — I forced Kurapika into it!”

“Forced him? My arms are broken, not my brain. I could easily process what I was seeing. Kurapika was obviously enjoying it.”

“He had no choice!” Leorio insists. “He couldn’t move! He couldn’t resist!”

Izunavi nods wisely. “I see. Because he couldn’t move or resist, he ended up praising your prodigious skills instead, and begging you for more.”

Leorio’s face burns up hotter than ever, which he didn’t think was possible at this point.

“I can’t really explain it,” Leorio mutters. “But this is my fault, not his. I . . . I just don’t want you to think any differently of him.”

The playful tone in Izunavi’s voice turns serious now. “So why’d you do it then? You have a taste for tormenting my student or something?”

Leorio shakes his head. “It’s not like that. I. . . .” Leorio gazes down at Kurapika’s sleeping form beside him. “I want him. Any chance I get to touch him, I jump at it like an animal. So I took advantage of him. I shouldn’t have done it. He probably hates me for doing this.”

“Speaking purely from the limited perspective of an outsider unwillingly dragged into your drama . . . I somehow doubt that Kurapika feels any shred of ill will toward you. During those months that I trained with him, I witnessed firsthand the depths of his wrath, both directed at the enemies that he dreams of chaining to hell, and directed at me, whenever I pushed him too hard on any given day. I didn’t detect any of that familiar malice a while ago.”

“Are you sure?” Leorio asks him. “Kurapika really doesn’t hate me?”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

Wait, how did they even get to this point? Why is Leorio asking Izunavi to reassure him now? This wasn’t what Leorio was trying to do!

Leorio clambers off the bed. He takes a second to survey Kurapika, ensuring that his body isn’t positioned in a way that may potentially worsen his injuries.

Leorio then turns to Izunavi again. “I’m heading to the bathroom. Need me to get you some painkillers before I go?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. You can always put on another show later, if you really want to distract me from my pain.”

The embarrassment flares up once more, which sets Leorio on his path to the door.

“Wash your hands!” Izunavi calls after him. “Use lots of soap! Your fingers have traveled to places where they generally shouldn’t go!”

Mortified to the nth degree, Leorio escapes from the employees’ bedroom.

In the bathroom, Leorio splashes his face with water. This isn’t enough to cool him down, so he sticks his overheated head under the faucet.

What kind of preposterous things was he telling Izunavi earlier? In his effort to absolve Kurapika of sin, didn’t Leorio essentially admit his love for him?

Leorio straightens up and stares at his own face in the mirror. His usually spiky dark hair is slicked down, dripping over his shoulders. He shakes his head wildly, like a dog fresh out of the bath.

“Get a hold of yourself, Leorio!” he berates himself.

He’s dying for a cigarette now. Should he bum a smoke from Izunavi? Hah, what a laughable idea. He’d almost rather drop dead than look that man in the eyes again.

Sighing, he reaches for the soap. But before he washes his hands, he takes the opportunity to sniff at his fingers. Ah, Kurapika’s scent. So distinctive. So addictive. As he recalls the image of that pretty puckered hole clenching around his fingers, Leorio feels his cock stir awake again.

“Okay, enough of that,” Leorio groans. “If you keep imagining Kurapika, you’ll be here all day, beating off your meat. Man, you are whipped. _Whipped._ ”

The moment that Leorio emerges from the bathroom, Melody approaches him. Just like that, a new tidal wave of horror besieges Leorio. 

_Holy shit._ Melody could hear him, couldn’t she? Talking about Kurapika and about beating off his meat in the same goddamn sentence. No, the situation is much worse than that. There’s no way she didn’t hear what happened in the bedroom — those squelching noises as Leorio played with Kurapika’s ass — as clearly as if she was right there, spectating beside the already spectating Izunavi.

What sort of torture chamber must this woman’s mind be like, having to listen every day as Hisoka and now Leorio tackle Kurapika, her boss and friend, to bed and wrestle him into submission every freaking chance they get?

Fortunately, Melody doesn’t seem to be contemplating Kurapika’s colorful sex life right now. She doesn’t even falter at the sight of Leorio’s sopping wet hair. “Leorio, Kurapika is asleep again, isn’t he? There’s some business we need to finish before he wakes up, and before Hisoka gets back.”

Leorio is grateful for this seemingly innocent conversation opener. It could be worse, right? “Hisoka left again? Where did he go now?”

“Bill said that he went off to meet some mysterious friend. He didn’t dare ask Hisoka for any more details.”

Melody leads Leorio into the living room. She crouches by the sofa and motions for Leorio to do the same. 

As Leorio lowers himself to her level, a stench smacks his nostrils. He resists the urge to pinch his nose as he stares at an assortment of cloth sacks stuffed underneath the sofa.

Melody drags out one sack, and a red stain smears against the floor tiles.

Leorio’s eyes widen. “Melody . . . what did Hisoka do now? What the hell are these?”

Melody’s voice is deathly quiet. “1st Prince Benjamin. 3rd Prince Zhang Lei. 1st Queen Unma. 3rd Queen Tang Zhao Li. Their guards. Their employees. Hisoka left after the mission and brought back all their heads.”

Leorio doesn’t know what to think, what to say.

“We need to get rid of these, as soon as possible.” Melody’s tone is urgent. “Once Hisoka sees Kurapika awake, he’ll show the heads to him, one by one. Hisoka is extremely excited about this prospect. He considers them ‘get well soon’ presents.”

The revolting mental image of Hisoka arranging a bloody array of heads over Kurapika’s blanket jerks Leorio out of his momentary stasis. “We can’t let that happen! That’s only going to worsen Kurapika’s condition!”

Melody nods. “I need your help to carry them, and you need my help to safely traverse the first tier. We have to do this together.”

They haul the sacks over their shoulders. Leorio swiftly selects the bloodier ones, not wanting Melody to suffer through this task any more than is absolutely necessary.

“Any ideas regarding a suitable spot for us to dispose of these sacks?” Melody inquires.

Leorio thinks about this for a bit. “The vista area in the third tier. I smoke there sometimes. I never see any ship guards roaming around that area.”

Melody nods, then hands him a pair of earplugs from her pocket. Without knowing why he’s doing so, Leorio inserts them into his ears.

The necessity for earplugs becomes apparent when they reach the guard post leading out of the first tier. While for the most part, Melody moves cautiously, occasionally throwing out her arm to stop Leorio in his tracks so that she can redirect them to another path, she shows no hesitation whatsoever as they approach the guard post. 

Melody plays a song on her flute, one that Leorio can’t hear. The ship guards freeze, staring vacantly into space as Melody and Leorio creep past, a hair’s breadth away from their motionless bodies.

Leorio is newly impressed by Melody’s abilities. If only Leorio was this strong. If Leorio can instantly incapacitate his opponents this way, then perhaps Kurapika will permit him to stay by his side, the way that Melody can.

As Leorio continues walking beside her, his mind drifts back to the 14th Prince’s quarters, back to Kurapika.

Based on what Leorio has heard about the massacre of the Kurta clan, he knows that many of the consanguineous members were cruelly beheaded by the notorious Phantom Troupe. Kurapika must have witnessed the aftermath of this genocide with his own eyes — all the decapitated, stabbed, and mutilated bodies of the people who were, for all intents and purposes, his family and his home. 

Back then, Kurapika was only twelve, wasn’t he? As much as Leorio may wish to share in the pain of this person that he loves with all his heart, he will _never_ be able to fully comprehend the depths of Kurapika’s anguish, rooted back to that unspeakably dark past.

If Hisoka shows Kurapika all these decapitated heads at once . . . there’s no way that such a sight won’t trigger Kurapika’s trauma. How many heads has Kurapika already been forced to encounter, all alone, in his solitary hunt for the scarlet eyes of his brethren?

Plagued as he is by these distressing thoughts, Leorio realizes too late that Melody has flung out her arm to stop him again. Leorio pushes past, then blinks in confusion as Melody suddenly vanishes beside him. 

Leorio whirls around, looking for her. She’s hiding behind a corner of the hallway and frantically beckoning for him to join her.

Leorio dives toward her. Noticing that she has shut off the flow of her aura with Zetsu, he quickly mimics her. 

They’re holding their breath and watching the hallway when Hisoka strolls into view, whistling. Hisoka’s meeting with his mysterious friend went well, apparently.

Leorio waits until Melody deactivates her Zetsu before he follows her cue. She exhales in obvious relief, then taps both of her ears. Leorio takes this to mean that he can extract the earplugs, so he does.

Melody is sighing now. “That was a close call. Hisoka was in such a cheerful mood that I almost didn’t detect the usual deceitful notes of his heartbeat. If he discovered us sneaking away with his precious trophies. . . .” She shudders at the thought.

“Let’s throw them away before that can happen. We’re nearly there.”

Once they reach the vista area, Leorio charges forward without hesitation and lobs all the sacks that he’s holding over the edge of the ship. 

As the distant splashing reaches his ears, Leorio closes his eyes. He offers silent prayers to those lost souls, as well as apologies for depriving their living relatives of the last glimpses of their faces.

Leorio opens his eyes and turns to Melody. He wordlessly takes the sacks that she’s carrying. He’s already gone this far, after all — no need to inflict this burden on her, if he can avoid it altogether.

Leorio hurls the remaining sacks toward the uncharted waters beyond the ship. Perhaps he has thrown them too forcefully this time — at least two of the sacks split open against the otherwise serene blue backdrop of sky. 

Leorio and Melody watch, with mouths agape, as decapitated heads spill out and spin midair. All their eyes are wide open, frozen forever in screams of terror. What an abominable sight those eyes must have witnessed in their final moments — that clown Hisoka, licking his lips in anticipation of their total annihilation.   


Before Leorio can control himself, he’s throwing up his dinner over the side of the ship, further disgracing the heads bobbing on the waves below.

As Leorio continues to retch, he suddenly hears a vaguely familiar voice, as silky as it is dispassionate. 

“My, my,” the voice says. “Aren’t you a friend of Killua’s? How can a sibling of mine enjoy the company of someone this hopelessly squeamish?”

Leorio whips his head to the side. Illumi, Killua’s eldest brother, is observing him. Peering out from behind Illumi, the youngest of the Zoldycks is also there, watching as well.

What the hell are these two assassins doing here? Why are they chilling here at the vista area, looking for all the world as if they’re enjoying a restful vacation on a cruise ship?

As Leorio wipes his mouth, wondering how to react to such an unexpected occurrence, Melody holds out her hand to Illumi.

Melody is smiling politely. “You’re Killua’s brother? Nice to meet you. I’m Melody, an acquaintance of his.”

Illumi just stares down blankly at Melody’s outstretched hand, and an awkward silence descends over them, until the youngest Zoldyck finally shuffles forward to shake her hand in Illumi’s stead.

“I’m Kalluto, Killua’s younger brother,” he says, then gestures toward Illumi. “And this is Illumi, our eldest.”

“Killua’s not here too, is he?” Melody asks.

“He didn’t join our modest family reunion, I’m afraid,” Illumi says. “He’s off gallivanting with the monster who may one day wipe out the entire human race.”

Leorio glares, his anger spurring him to break his silence. “You’re not referring to Killua’s sister Alluka, are you? The same Alluka who saved Gon’s life? Don’t test me. Even if you’re my friend’s brother, I won’t hesitate to punch you off the side of this ship.”

“Now, now,” Melody cuts in. “That won’t be necessary. We didn’t come here to start a fight with anybody, did we, Leorio? We’re just here to take care of some business.”

Illumi flashes a terrible smile, one that doesn’t reach the shadowy pools of his eyes. “Yes, we witnessed you disposing of the evidence. Aren’t those the heads that are missing from the crime scenes in the 1st Prince’s and the 3rd Prince’s quarters?”

Leorio and Melody just stare, speechless now.

Illumi continues speaking, pleased to have stumped them. “Three princes and three queens from the Kakin royal family brutally slain overnight, with two of the princes’ camps uniformly beheaded. With a story this sensational, word has obviously gotten around. And you two were involved? Are you accessories to these multiple murders, or principally responsible? My, what a riveting mystery this is.”

Kalluto glances at Illumi. “Big Brother and I don’t intend to tell anyone your secret. But you can’t be this sloppy about getting rid of the evidence. Doing it in broad daylight like this. . . . You’re lucky we were the only ones who saw you.”

Melody turns around abruptly. “Leorio, we need to go.”

As they’re walking away, Melody offers a brief goodbye to the two assassins, but Leorio doesn’t bother. 

Once they’re out of earshot, Melody starts speaking fast. “We can’t let anyone find Izunavi in the 14th Prince’s quarters. The royal guards will probably hunt him down for questioning, sooner or later.”

“I can take Izunavi with me when I return to the medical ward,” Leorio responds. “That way, his injuries can also receive intensive care. What about Giuliano?”

“Mizaistom interrogated Giuliano in the kitchen all night, but he gave up nothing. He kept insisting that he was Manipulated into betraying our side to Kakin. He claimed that he could barely recall anything from the past two weeks.”

“So where is Giuliano now?” Leorio asks.

“The two Zodiacs brought him to the third tier with them, but I don’t know what their plans are. They didn’t discuss them.”

Leorio groans. “What a goddamn mess. The only objective of that mission was to capture Giuliano. Why are we suddenly dealing with the fallout of the massacres of the camps of three different princes? Fuck Hisoka. Seriously.”

Melody smiles ruefully. “I wouldn’t go so far as to use such language, but know that I fully agree with the emotion behind your words.”

Leorio sighs. “I wish I could just pluck Kurapika out of this war and watch him recover peacefully with me. That’s all I want, really.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Melody asks a question that halts Leorio in his tracks. “Leorio, you’re in love with Kurapika, aren’t you?”

They’ve both stopped walking now. They stare mutely at each other for a minute.

When Leorio finally speaks, his voice is resigned. “I knew it. You heard what I was doing to Kurapika earlier.”

“Hmm. It’s not really about that. As I’m sure you know, most people are plenty capable of making love without feeling love. Take Kurapika and Hisoka, for example. So that’s not how I gauge a person’s romantic inclinations. It’s your heartbeat that gives you away.”

“My heartbeat. . . .”

Melody patiently explains. “The rhythm was uneven before. A sign of infatuation. But your heartbeat has the cadence of certainty now. This means that your flighty feelings have developed into something immovable.”

“Certainty, huh? I don’t know about that. If anything, realizing that I love him has only confused me more. I feel all this love, but I have no idea what to do with it. I want to show him, but I don’t know how. I want to tell him, but what if I end up scaring him away?”

Melody smiles gently at him. “I’m not sure whether you’ll find this comforting or not, but you’ve already taken the most formidable step, you know? Moving from denial to acceptance. Some people take years to make this move. Some never do. It sounds simple enough, but for certain types of emotionally stunted individuals, this shift is herculean or even downright impossible. In a way, love is nothing more than pure emotional vulnerability. Opening yourself to the possibility of attack, and trusting that the other party won’t take advantage of your lowered defenses.”

“Is that what I should do? Lower my defenses and hope for the best?”

Melody shakes her head. “That’s not what I’m saying. At this point, you don’t have a choice in that matter. Your defenses are down. You’re open for attack now. The question now revolves around whether the person that your heart has chosen to trust is worth all your blind faith or not. I expect you’ll find out, soon enough.”

Leorio senses that she may already have an answer to this question, as it specifically applies to him and Kurapika. But she doesn’t offer her prediction, and Leorio doesn’t ask.

They resume walking again.

As they approach the guard post, Leorio inserts the earplugs. He allows the silence on his side — and the music on Melody’s side — to carry them back to where his love waits.


	23. Transgressions disguised as human flesh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Rough sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

That nightmare again. 

A forest fire razing his home to dust. And in the ashfall, alone, cradling the body he loves. Moon dripping red. A jagged neck. No maroon eyes, no laughing mouth. Nothing. Nothing left now. A gaping hole in his own heaving chest, pressed against the gaping hole in a motionless one.

As he opens his dark eyes, he wonders why he’s still here. Why is he even alive?

He fists the sheets beneath him and grits his teeth as he shoves up his broken body from the bed. Sweat pours down his face from the effort. Each minute movement sends another fresh pang of pain. Black creeps into the edges of his vision, threatening to knock him senseless again.

A raspy voice rises from the bed next to his. “What the hell are you doing?! Are you _trying_ to kill yourself? Lie down! What an obstinate student!”

Kurapika glances over. “Ah, Master Izunavi. How nice to see you awake. Are you feeling any better?”

“I’m feeling a heart attack coming on, just watching you doing whatever you’re doing! Just stop it! Behave!”

Kurapika swings his legs over the edge of the mattress. He manages to clutch the bed frame just in time to prevent his entire body from crashing to the floor. “Master, I have some business to attend to, so will you be okay on your own?” 

When his teacher doesn’t respond, Kurapika turns to look at him. Izunavi is just staring, rendered speechless by his student’s stubbornness. “About your injuries,” Kurapika says quietly, “I take full responsibility. I didn’t train my pet well enough. I need to rectify that now.”

Kurapika successfully hobbles all the way to the door, but has to pause to catch his breath. It’s so damn difficult to breathe — just how deep is this damage in his lungs?

Izunavi again attempts to dissuade Kurapika from leaving. “Hey! If you need something, just wait for that nurse to come back! Just ask him again! I’m sure he’ll happily do anything you ask!”

Kurapika freezes as something clicks in his brain. Well, of course. Of course this sort of bullshit has to happen. Nightmares when he’s asleep, nightmares when he’s awake. When will this torture ever end?

Kurapika slowly turns around. “Master . . . you saw, didn’t you? You saw what Leorio did to me.”

Izunavi’s silence is confirmation enough. Kurapika leans against the door, forcing himself to hold on to his consciousness, forcing his mind to churn out some plausible excuse. He can’t let this incident ruin Leorio’s reputation. Protecting Leorio is his priority right now.

“Then there’s something you should know,” Kurapika tells Izunavi. “What you saw . . . that’s not what it looked like. I forced Leorio into it.”

Izunavi looks amused all of a sudden. “Now why does that excuse sound eerily familiar?”

“Leorio never touches patients this way,” Kurapika insists. “He’s a man of unparalleled virtue and integrity. I schemed and pressured him into it. I pretended to be in pain, pretended that his touch was the only thing that would alleviate my imaginary agony.”

Izunavi sighs. “You can try to lie your way out of this all you want, but you’re not fooling me. You’re obviously in a shitload of pain right now. It’s written all over your face.”

Kurapika attempts to rearrange his face into the epitome of serenity. “Listen, Master,” he says, adopting a measured tone. “I deeply regret everything I did to Leorio. He surely hates me for this right now. I acknowledge this unforgivable error in judgment. I’m not the man that you trained me to be, so if you wish to reprimand me for this indiscretion, I’ll gladly accept any punishment that you choose to dish out later.”

This should be enough for now. Kurapika turns to go, but Izunavi calls out to him again.

“Kurapika, before you go kill yourself or wage whatever weird vendetta this is against your own recovery, can I ask you something?”

Kurapika turns back to him. “What is it, Master?”

“Why’d you do it? If you knew you’d only come to regret it, why’d you _force_ that nurse to touch you?”

Kurapika’s expression is deadpan now. “Oh, this is a little embarrassing to admit. Please don’t mention this to anyone. The thing is, I have this massive crush on Leorio. He’s really handsome, right? Leorio is the hottest guy to me. Ever. So whenever the rare opportunity arises to engage in physical contact with him, I snatch it up, like the selfish beast that I am.”

Izunavi smirks. “It’s uncanny, how similar your minds are. You even lie the same way.”

“Similar. . . .”

“You can just tell him, you know? Tell that nurse you’re crushing on him. Save yourself from this unnecessary guilt trip.”

Kurapika shakes his head. “I can’t tell him that.”

Izunavi’s tone is challenging. “Scared you’ll be rejected?”

“I couldn’t care less about being rejected. I’m only scared of losing Leorio as a friend. Our friendship is leagues more important to me than any half-assed attempt at romance. Once a confession occurs, that’s it. The friendship is over, regardless of the answer.”

With this, Kurapika finally leaves the employees’ bedroom. 

First order of business, find Bill.

Bill is more than a little startled to see the half-dead Kurapika shambling toward where he sits on the sofa. But Bill agrees readily enough to grant Kurapika the favor that he asks.

Utilizing his supportive Enhancer-type Nen ability, Bill powers up Kurapika’s Holy Chain to help him mend the broken bones over his shoulder and back, as well as to seal the organs ripped open beneath.

The pain hasn’t deserted Kurapika, not entirely, but his breathing has vastly improved.

Kurapika allows the red tint to fade over his black contacts, then expresses his gratitude to Bill. Kurapika then pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket to mop up the sweat drenching his face and neck.

Good. He can concentrate now. He can more clearly appraise his most recent slew of errors and formulate the appropriate solution. 

First mistake. He let his guard down. He allowed Izunavi, a person whom he trusted, to attack him and grievously injure him.

Second mistake. He permitted Leorio to access him while he was alone and weak to his own impulses. He should have driven Leorio away. If he causes Leorio a fraction of pain now, he can spare him from a world of pain later, one from which he can never recover.

Third mistake. He offered Leorio — his friend of unparalleled virtue and integrity — a glimpse of the depravity that he usually keeps locked down. Biggest fucking mistake. Leorio is in danger around him. No matter what, he can’t sully Leorio any further than this.

There’s only one person that he can trust with the depths of his depravity. A person who has seen all his monsters rear their ugly heads, and yet hasn’t turned away.

Kurapika looks at Bill, who is staring uneasily at him. Taken aback, perhaps, by the ruthlessness of Kurapika’s expression.

“Where’s Hisoka?” Kurapika asks.

Kurapika finds Hisoka in the kitchen. Hisoka is muttering resentfully as he hunts for something in the cabinets. 

Kurapika touches Hisoka’s back. “What are you looking for?”

At the sight of Kurapika standing beside him, Hisoka’s eyes widen in alarm. His eyes then wander all over Kurapika’s body, as if trying to confirm that every part is still there, intact and whole.

By way of explanation, Kurapika briefly dangles the silver cross of the Holy Chain in front of Hisoka’s face, then withdraws it.

“I got you a present.” Hisoka’s voice sounds subdued. “I wanted to cheer you up, but I don’t know where it went. I seem to have misplaced it.”

“Never mind that now.” Kurapika grabs Hisoka’s arm. “Follow me. I need to speak with you alone.”

They head out to the hallways of the first tier. Kurapika can feel Hisoka watching him, but he stares straight ahead and pretends not to notice.

Hisoka finally speaks. “So . . . about your beloved master. You’re going to chew me out for breaking him, right? But how could I _not_ break him? That bastard nearly killed my partner right in front of me.”

Kurapika doesn’t spare him a glance. “I’m not angry, okay? You fucked up, yes, but so did I. We’re both disasters. We’re collections of transgressions, disguised as human flesh. What’s new.”

“You say you’re not angry, but that’s not the vibe you’re giving off right now, you know?”

“To be more precise, I’m furious, but none of my fury is directed at you.” Kurapika looks at him this time. “I can’t afford to hate you, Hisoka. I need you too much.”

Kurapika takes Hisoka to the ice room. The last time Kurapika was here, he was embracing Leorio and pretending that his warmth, on its own, would be enough. In his head, Kurapika was rewriting the ending to his own story — this tragedy in the making, barreling closer and closer to an inevitably bloody conclusion with every passing moment.

No need for such pretensions now. 

Kurapika rips off both of their clothes and commands Hisoka to fuck him. Then fuck him again. And again. And again. And again.

While the room is chilly, their bodies clash and infiltrate each other’s crevices repeatedly, shifting formations and trading strategies, generating enough warmth to melt the ice all around them.

“Sexually frustrated, huh?” Hisoka’s face is actually perspiring now, which almost never happens. “Let me guess. Has that precious friend with whom you’re secretly in love been poking you all night with his sexy silver surgical tools?”

Kurapika tightens the chain around Hisoka’s neck. “Shut up and fuck me properly.”

Kurapika keeps ordering Hisoka to go harder and rougher and deeper, and Hisoka tries to give him what he wants, but it’s never enough. Kurapika keeps wanting more. More. More. More.

Enough hours pass that Hisoka begins to speculate that night has fallen again. He pulls his dick out of Kurapika’s ass for what feels like the hundredth time today, at least to his impossibly hazy brain.

Hisoka winces. “That’s it. I’m done. You’ve milked me dry.”

In response, Kurapika yanks Hisoka’s legs toward him. He flips Hisoka over and starts to fuck him doggy-style.

Hisoka is groaning — a sound of fatigue, not desire. “I told you, I can’t come anymore. Do you want to see me ejaculating blood? Is that the type of play you’re going for here?”

Kurapika’s voice remains composed despite his onslaught of stabbing thrusts. “Then don’t come. Just be a good fucktoy, and let me destroy you. Can’t wait to spill my seeds deep inside you.” He hisses in pleasure and strokes Hisoka’s abdomen with both of his hands. “Hey, how far do you think I can go? Do you think I can get my cum to shoot out of your throat?”

Kurapika shoves two of his chained fingers into Hisoka’s mouth, and Hisoka whimpers against his palm.

Kurapika can feel his next orgasm building. Fuck, yes. This is going to be an explosive one. 

He moves his chained hand to Hisoka’s hip, fingernails digging in to keep him in position. “Tighten up for me, Hisoka. Tighten up so I can tear you open again. It will be fun. It will be just like the first time.”

“Pendulum!” Hisoka gasps.

That word. Hisoka has only said this word once before, and Kurapika himself has never used it. 

Right before Hisoka took his virginity, he whispered this word into Kurapika’s ear. Back then, Hisoka made it abundantly clear — if Kurapika ever said _pendulum,_ Hisoka would immediately stop whatever he was doing, no matter what. No excuses.

Kurapika pulls out right away. Ignoring his still raging erection, he gently lifts Hisoka from where he’s bent over on the floor and embraces him.

Hisoka is trembling. Kurapika rubs his back, trying to soothe him.

“I’m sorry,” Kurapika murmurs. “I went too far. I shouldn’t have.”

Hisoka doesn’t say anything, but after about a minute, he holds Kurapika in return. He pulls Kurapika down with him, and they just lie there on the floor for a while. Cuddling, not talking.

Kurapika caresses Hisoka’s hair as he waits for his lover’s tremors, as well as his own blue balls, to subside.

When Hisoka is still again, Kurapika kisses him softly on one shoulder, then on the other. He then checks Hisoka’s face. 

“Are you okay?” Kurapika asks him.

“I’m okay now,” Hisoka replies.

Kurapika gets up and hands Hisoka his clothes. They both dress up.

With a sigh, Kurapika sits against the wall. Hisoka joins him. He puts an arm around Kurapika’s shoulders, and Kurapika leans into him. Now that they’re not generating heat through sex, they’re both exhaling white puffs.

Kurapika asks Hisoka to update him about everything that happened after he collapsed. As Hisoka talks, Kurapika listens quietly, his fingers absentmindedly running up and down Hisoka’s forearm.

“I didn’t tell the two Zodiacs about this,” Hisoka says. He awkwardly reaches into his right pants pocket with his left arm, so that he won’t interrupt Kurapika’s stroking of his right arm.

Kurapika stares down at the cluster of needles on Hisoka’s palm. Each needle has a rounded bulb on one end. 

“I extracted two of these from Izunavi’s and Giuliano’s napes,” Hisoka explains. “After I entrusted your injured body to the 14th Prince’s camp, I returned to the 6th Prince’s quarters to collect the rest of these needles.”

“These are . . .?”

“Illumi’s needles. Illumi Manipulated Giuliano into betraying the Hunter Association, then Manipulated Izunavi and the rest of the 6th Prince’s camp into attacking any infiltrators. You’ve met Illumi before, haven’t you?”

Kurapika nods. “He’s Killua’s brother, right? So he was responsible for all that? For the betrayal, and for the extension of the war?” He rubs his chin now. “Hmm, I’m trying to understand the timeline here. Illumi must have gotten to Giuliano about two weeks ago, back when King Nasubi started troubling the Hunter Association with new demands. As for Master Izunavi, I visited him to barter for cigarettes three days before the mission, and he was definitely his usual self. So then . . . Illumi returned to the 6th Prince’s quarters _after_ my visit, and decided to Manipulate Master Izunavi at that point? Why now? Did somebody tip him off about our mission?”

Hisoka shrugs. “Who knows what Illumi was trying to do at that time? I’ve tried getting answers from him, but he won’t budge. I do have my suspicions, though.”

“You’re still in contact with Illumi? The two of you are friends, aren’t you?”

“Our friendship went through something of a rough patch recently, care of an assassination contract. You see, I had engaged Illumi earlier to eliminate a most formidable target.”

“Who was the target?” Kurapika inquires.

Hisoka smirks. “Me, of course.”

Kurapika considers asking Hisoka why he would put a target on his own head. But knowing his partner, he probably did it purely for the thrill.

“Right after our mission wrapped up,” Hisoka says, “I got in contact with Illumi and rekindled our friendship by amending the assassination contract. I switched the target, then exponentially multiplied the bounty, inclusive of the amount owing to him pursuant to the penalty clause. So instead of killing one clown, Illumi had the opportunity to team up with that clown and kill numerous new targets together. Everybody wins, right?”

“Numerous new targets. . . .”

Hisoka scoots closer. He’s beaming now, looking very excited. “Are you ready to hear about this, Kurapika? It’s great. It’s the best. You’ll love me for this.”

Who did Hisoka kill this time? Kurapika feels more than a little apprehensive, but he makes himself smile back. Encouraged by this, Hisoka hugs Kurapika and nuzzles him.

“Nn.” Kurapika feels his face turn pink as Hisoka rains warm kisses over his ear. “Tell me, Hisoka. Come on.”

So Hisoka tells him, whispering it so lovingly that one would think that he was revealing his deepest, most intimate secret. “The 1st Prince’s and the 3rd Prince’s camps, we murdered them together — Illumi, Illumi’s youngest brother Kalluto, and I. I brought back all their heads as trophies for you. I even went out of my way to catch all the prey with their eyes open before I beheaded them. Truly a magnificent spectacle. . . .” Hisoka heaves a disgruntled sigh now. “Some asshole stole the heads from the 14th Prince’s quarters though. I bet it was your precious friend Leorio, playing the hero again.”

Hisoka’s smile slides off his face when he realizes that Kurapika’s body is rigid and mute against his chest. He gently pushes Kurapika away to look at his face.

Kurapika is staring at him blankly.

“Are you disappointed in me?” Hisoka asks, worried now.

Kurapika starts. “No, not disappointed. Thinking. Give me a minute.”

Kurapika leans his head against Hisoka’s chest again. He’s mumbling almost imperceptibly, and with his chained index finger, drawing random patterns over Hisoka’s back as he continues to dwell on what he’s just heard.

When Kurapika finally looks up, he’s smiling. He pats Hisoka’s head with his chained hand. “I’m proud of you, Hisoka. You did well.” He holds the smile for just a few seconds, then turns serious. “Next time, however, I’d like you to consult with me first before you do anything that may affect the flow of the war.”

“I know. I just wanted to surprise you this time. But I’ll ask for your permission before I do anything like that again. It’s more fun if we do it together, anyway.”

Kurapika’s smile returns. “That’s true. We’re partners now, so we have to work together. 1st Prince Benjamin and 3rd Prince Zhang Lei. . . . Excellent choices for your first kills, Hisoka. With this, we may finally have enough leverage to be able to shift to an offensive strategy. I may have a plan.”

Hisoka licks his lips. “ _Yes._ This is _exactly_ what I’ve been hoping for. There’ll be more opportunities to kill now, won’t there?”

“Not indiscriminately. Take note, Hisoka. This is very important. But yes, I do expect that more will have to die. We can’t win a war without any casualties. If some of the camps refuse to fall in line with our demands, I’ll set you loose on them.”

“Perfect. I’m willing to wait. I can stave off the bloodlust for a while. The recent murders have satiated me, at least for the time being.”

Hisoka’s hands are suddenly fumbling with Kurapika’s trousers again. Impatient, he yanks off the belt, tearing off the belt loops as he goes.

“Didn’t you just say that you were feeling satiated?” Kurapika teases.

“All this talk about murder has gotten me horny again.” Hisoka’s head dives down between Kurapika’s thighs, and doesn’t resurface for a while.

Kurapika is talking calmly, even as his chained hand grips Hisoka’s flaming hair, guiding his head as it bobs up and down. “Not all of the princes’ camps need to be our enemies, of course. Off the top of my head, I can think of four or five princes who may be convinced to form an alliance with us. In order of likelihood, these are 13th Prince Marayam, 11th Prince Fugetsu, 9th Prince Halkenburg, 7th Prince Luzurus, and 5th Prince Tubeppa. If given the opportunity and the promise of immunity, they may withdraw from the battle for the throne. It’s not a probability, but a possibility, given just the right delicate touch. Fortunately, I consider myself somewhat of an expert in the art of persuasion.”

Hisoka lifts his face to share his thoughts. “Forget about the princes’ camps for a moment, will you? Each of the princes should be easy enough to handle if we really set our minds to it. What are we going to do about the strongest faction of all?”

“What do you mean? 1st Prince Benjamin’s camp was the biggest threat by far, but you’ve taken care of that for me, haven’t you?”

Hisoka smiles and wraps his fingers around Kurapika’s cock. “Think _bigger_.”  


Kurapika just stares, not comprehending. His brain isn’t helping either. It just keeps telling Kurapika to shove down Hisoka’s head, so that those lips can devour him again.

Hisoka snickers. “Oh? Oh my. I’ve just realized. How silly of me. I forgot to tell you about the company that Illumi keeps these days. His friends, who most likely instigated the conflict between the Hunters and Kakin, are a bunch of truly eclectic and uniquely delectable individuals. You and I have _quite_ the colorful history with them. Is it any surprise that they’re currently hell-bent on sending us both to hell?”


	24. Fantasies coming to fruition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

After another hour’s worth of strategizing, Kurapika decides that it’s time to head back to the 14th Prince’s quarters. When he stands up, however, his trousers immediately slide down from his hips.

Still sitting on the floor of the ice room, Hisoka grabs the midnight blue fabric before it can pool around Kurapika’s ankles.

Kurapika furrows his brows. “Goddamn it.”

Were Kurapika’s trousers always this loose on him? Hisoka bunches the excess inches of waistband and measures them with his fingers. 

Hisoka glances up at him. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

Kurapika thinks about this. “Two nights ago?”

“Much as it pains me to bring this up, as the person most benefited by your nymphomaniac tendencies . . . you can’t survive on an exclusive diet of dick, you know?”

Kurapika smirks. “Do we really know that for sure? Maybe I’m wired differently. Maybe I’ll prove to be the exception.”

Hisoka pulls Kurapika down on his lap and applies Bungee Gum to the belt loops that he ripped off earlier. Once they’re all mended, he slots in Kurapika’s belt and buckles it.

Hisoka smiles. “There you go. You’re as good as new.” The smile fades as he notices that Kurapika is once again shrugging off his shirt. “Do you . . . _never_ stop being horny?”

“Never,” Kurapika confirms. “But don’t worry, that’s not what I’m trying to do. I’ve learned my lesson, I assure you. I’ll spare you from any further ravishing until your juices flow for me again.” Kurapika casts his shirt aside. “Can you make the rest of me as good as new? Using Texture Surprise, I mean.”

Hisoka nods, then runs his palm over Kurapika’s chest, concealing the fresh scratches and bruises with paper-thin layers of aura, altered to appear like unbroken skin. “Texture Surprise, huh. Color me surprised. I thought you enjoyed it whenever I did this to you — using your body as my own personal canvas.”

“I do enjoy it, but. . . .” Kurapika sighs. “Knowing Leorio, he’ll find some ridiculous excuse to strip me naked once he sees me. He’ll pretend that I need a checkup or something.”

“Since when has stripping naked ever been a problem for you?”

“I just don’t want to stir up drama with Leorio right now. I’m too tired for this bullshit.”

Hisoka swivels Kurapika’s body around so that he can smoothen the skin of his back with even more sheets of aura. “What’s been going on between you two, anyway? Has our blustering boy summoned enough courage to stick his dick inside you?”

“For the record, I asked him to.”

Hisoka’s eyes light up with interest. “And? Was the dicking as good as you always dreamed?”

“I wouldn’t know. I passed out while he was preparing me.”

Hisoka bursts out laughing. He wraps his arms around Kurapika’s waist, his mirth shaking both of their bodies. Even when he eventually manages to compose himself, he still doesn’t release Kurapika. “Ah, you really are too precious for this world. Haven’t you been fantasizing about fucking him since forever?”

“Well, let’s not exaggerate. Only since I was seventeen. That’s hardly forever.”

“So your two-year-old fantasy was finally about to come to fruition . . . and you fell asleep before it could happen?” Hisoka can’t help himself. He sniggers harder than ever against Kurapika’s back.

“I was less tickled by the incident, but I’m certainly glad that you’re getting a kick out of it. Are you done fixing me up yet?”

“Yep, all done.” Hisoka lets go of Kurapika now. “Will you let me take a look at you?”

Kurapika stands up and spins around, slowly.

Hisoka remains seated as he admires his own handiwork. Once he’s satisfied, he holds out Kurapika’s shirt. “What can I say? I’m an artist, and you’re my masterpiece.”

As Kurapika buttons up again, Hisoka muses. Hisoka soon breaks the silence, an amused glint in his eyes. “I have a theory for why your body shut down before the man you love could claim your ass.”

“We all know why. My body hates me, right?”

Hisoka snickers. “Who can blame it for hating you when you’re always treating it this badly? But here’s what I really think. Your body knows something that your mouth won’t admit.”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “And what is that, exactly?”

“Regardless of what your heart wants, your body has developed its own distinct tastes. Your body passed out to hold out for the person that it truly wanted to possess it.”

Kurapika stares down at Hisoka and says nothing. He then bends down, and Hisoka wonders, just for a second, whether Kurapika might actually kiss him. 

Kurapika then tilts his head and bites down, hard, on Hisoka’s neck. Hisoka sighs sensually as the teeth break his skin.

“Don’t you dare hide this with Texture Surprise,” Kurapika mumbles, as his mouth fills up with blood.

“Hide it? Why, I’d never dream of doing such a thing. I’ll wear your mark as proudly as a piece of jewelry.”

When Kurapika tilts back his face to stare at him again, Hisoka brushes off the crimson from the soft lips with his thumb.

Hisoka stops himself, just in time, from claiming those lips with his own.

When Kurapika gets back to the 14th Prince’s quarters, he checks in briefly with Queen Oito, then calls the members of the 14th Prince’s camp into the kitchen for a meeting.

As Kurapika stands by the kitchen door to watch the others file in, Leorio accosts him.

“Kurapika! Where the hell have you been all day?!”

“Strategy meeting.” Kurapika doesn’t elaborate further.

“You practically just died, and now you’re holding meetings all over the place?!”

“Didn’t Bill tell you that I healed myself?” Kurapika wheels around both of his arms, then parks his hands on his hips. “See? I’m perfectly fine now. I’m as good as new.”

“I’ll be the judge of that! Time for a checkup!”

Leorio attempts to drag him off by the elbow, but Kurapika wrenches away from his grasp.

Kurapika’s voice is exasperated. “Can’t your overprotective streak wait until the meeting concludes?”   


“But this is a matter of life or death! The Holy Chain isn’t perfect, is it? What if your bones have aligned the wrong way? What if —”

“Leorio, please. You’re being melodramatic.”

He isn’t even looking Leorio in the eye. He’s gazing over Leorio’s shoulder, obviously diverted by something else. Annoyed, Leorio turns around to address the source of Kurapika’s distraction.

Hisoka has stopped on his way to the kitchen, apparently engrossed by the scene of the two of them sniping at each other.

Once Leorio notices him watching, Hisoka prances forward to ruffle Kurapika’s blond hair — flashing down a knowing smile at him — then skips off into the kitchen without a word.

Leorio glares at Kurapika again, as if about to blame him for each of Hisoka’s countless eccentricities.

Kurapika crosses his arms over his chest. “What? If you want to say something to me, just say it.”

Leorio’s expression is ferocious. “I’ll let you go now, but once the meeting is over, come find me. We need to talk. No excuses, and no clowns allowed. You’ll listen to everything I say, and you’ll let me take care of you as much as I want. You got that?”

“I got it.”

“Promise me, Kurapika.” Leorio watches as Kurapika nods, but refuses to be satisfied by this silent assent. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I promise, Leorio. I’ll look for you. I’ll listen to everything you want to say to me.”

Leorio swoops down suddenly to peck Kurapika’s forehead. Before Kurapika can react to this, Leorio marches off, his face the shade of cherries, or raspberries, or some other freshly harvested fruit.

Leorio attempts, at first, to resist this budding friendship. But now that he’s helped this man undress and dress into more comfortable clothes . . . held this man’s penis in place to prevent him from pissing everywhere except directly into the toilet bowl. . . . Is there any point in trying to avoid this? Their friendship is forged in fire now, written in stone.

In the employees’ bedroom, Leorio and Izunavi entertain themselves by trading stories about how Kurapika is both the worst student and the worst patient ever.

“Have I mentioned the time when he crawled into my tent — in the dead of night! — just to ask me a million questions about the minutiae of contracts and conditions? Of course, curiosity is always commendable in a student, but this brat’s curiosity never let up, not for a single stinking second!”

Leorio nods vigorously. “God, that sounds just like him. He never knows when to stop! One time, he was down with a fever for days. His fever had barely even broken when I caught him purchasing airship tickets online, ready as can be to jet off to his next work commitment!”

“Oh, you’re telling me. Once that boy has committed to something, he simply _chooses_ not to listen to any naysayers poking holes in his plans. He’s single-minded to a fault, especially when the Spider is involved!”

“Spider. . . .” Leorio echoes.

“Wait, you haven’t heard about the Spider? He never shuts up about that!”

“It’s not that. Look.” Leorio points upward.

Izunavi looks. A spider dangles above their separate beds, connected to the ceiling by a thread of gossamer.

Leorio rises from the bed. “I better catch it. If Kurapika even _sees_ a spider, he’ll lose his shit.”

“Wait,” Izunavi says, sitting up with some difficulty. “Use your Nen ability. I want to see it in action.”

Leorio takes a deep breath. He collects aura over his right fist, then smacks it down on the floor. A portal gapes open in the ceiling, and Leorio’s disembodied hand springs out to snatch the bug.

Leorio withdraws his arm from the matching portal on the floor. Within his loosely closed fist, the spider’s eight legs skitter about in a panicked frenzy. 

Leorio leaps up on the bed, cracks open the small circular window, and gently frees the spider from the confines of the room. He then shuts the window and turns to Izunavi again.

Izunavi looks thoughtful. “Hmm. Your technique has a certain promising verve to it, but there’s a lot of room for improvement. For Emitters like us, there’s always the danger of prioritizing flash over substance.”

“So how can I improve it?”

“Sustainable expenditure. That’s what it’s all about.”

Hisoka is sitting fully clothed in a bathtub in the dark.

He’s going through his deck, trying to identify each card despite being deprived of his sight. After making his guess, he then sparks a lighter to check. His success-to-failure ratio is about 70:30 so far, which isn’t bad, but isn’t anything to brag about either.

Practice seeing with the lights out — this was Kurapika’s cryptic instruction before he permitted Hisoka to sit out the meeting. Because the agenda primarily revolved around the internal defense of the 14th Prince’s quarters, Hisoka had to stifle several yawns before Kurapika took pity and excused him.

In the darkness now, Hisoka powers up his eyes using Gyo, attempting to sharpen his vision this way.

Just as he successfully identifies a diamond, the bathroom door bangs open, causing him to jolt in shock. He instinctively activates Zetsu, right before the light clicks on.

Hisoka’s gaze wanders upward as a hand reaches past the opaque plastic curtain to turn on the shower. He remains motionless even as water sprinkles then pours over him.

The person withdraws their hand. There’s the clack of the toilet lid closing, then a pause, then a creaking as the door opens once more.

Leorio’s voice rings out as he calls to someone outside the bathroom. “Izunavi! Can I borrow your lighter, man? I don’t know where mine went.”

Another pause, then Leorio says thanks and closes the door. The stench of cigarette smoke soon pervades the bathroom.

Hisoka’s clothes are drenched by this point, but he stays still. With a mixture of amusement and disgust, Hisoka listens as Leorio commences practicing . . . a heartfelt confession of eternal love and devotion?!

Leorio’s lines are so gooey, so sickeningly sweet, that Hisoka has to physically prevent himself from gagging. He then jerks in shock again as he hears Leorio utter his name.

“You don’t have to force yourself to fuck Hisoka anymore. Remember what I offered you before? I said I’d fuck you any time you asked for it, and I do mean it this time. Even if you’re sick, even if you’re injured . . . I’ll hold you. I’ll please you. We’ll trade visits between the first and the third tiers. I’m ready to break all my rules for you, so you never have to hold back with me again.”

Leorio pauses. When he resumes talking, his voice is even stronger, his emotion more earnest than ever.

“I’ll fuck you good, I swear. I’ll make you forget about Hisoka. I’ll make you forget about everyone else. I’ll satisfy you sexually, so you won’t need anyone except me.”

A faint fizzling. Has Leorio crushed out his cigarette?

There’s the sound of a zipper, followed by —

_Squick, squick, squick._ “Hnghh.” _Squick, squick, squick._ “Oh, God.” _Squick, squick, squick._ “Oh, yes!”

Things devolve from bad to worse as Leorio begins to grunt Kurapika’s name, over and over again.

Okay, this is way too much. It’s time for Hisoka to reveal himself.

Hisoka yanks the shower curtain sideward. 

With a yell of shock, Leorio jumps up from the toilet and whirls around to face Hisoka.

In the space of a second, Hisoka surveys Leorio’s cock, visually comparing it with his own. Leorio’s is slightly longer, perhaps, but Hisoka’s is considerably girthier.

Hisoka has just started to crow in satisfaction, when Leorio suddenly ejaculates, shooting a gob of cum directly between Hisoka’s lips. His laughter is swiftly silenced as the bitter jelly settles over his tongue and sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Once he recovers from his surprise, Hisoka immediately spits out between his legs. He retches, again and again, then utilizes the still running shower to rinse his mouth.

Leorio zips up his pants, squeaking as the zipper snags some of his pubes in his haste. He now sputters at Hisoka with a combination of humiliation, hatred, horror, and hurt. He’s so worked up that you can practically see the smoke streaming from his burning ears.

Hisoka’s tone is conversational as he washes off the last traces of semen from his face. “You’re a premature ejaculator, huh? What a tragedy. Plus, you taste _terrible_. Before you force our little friend to suck that skinny dick of yours, can you eat some damn fruit first? How about pineapple?”

Hisoka turns off the shower then faces Leorio again. Leaning on the edge of the tub, he takes advantage of Leorio’s temporary incoherence to critique the planned confession. “Listen. I know you only have the purest of intentions, but you simply don’t understand Kurapika to the extent that I do. He isn’t the sentimental type, so I’d suggest leaving out the part about your warm and fuzzy feelings. Hell, don’t even mention that cursed word — _love_ — if you can avoid it altogether. But the part about fucking him good, about satisfying him sexually . . . that’s all fine. You can keep that. He’ll be into that.”

Leorio finally forms words now. “ _You’re_ giving me advice about love? _You?_ ”

“Sure I am. I have a vested interest in your vomit-inducing confession, you know?”

“Who gives a shit if you’re interested?! I don’t remember asking you for advice! So you can shove your useless advice right up your —”   


Hisoka cuts him off. “This clown is being 100% serious this time. If we’re going to be sharing my favorite toy, I expect you to treasure him and polish him to perfection before returning him to me. You owe me. Don’t ever forget that.”

Leorio shakes an indignant fist at him. “ _I owe you?!_ ”

“You and Melody callously threw out my trophies, right? I worked my ass off to collect them, simply to please the boy that you love.”

“ _Trophies?_ Are you talking about the heads of those _human beings_ that you murdered in cold blood?”

Hisoka smiles indulgently. “Haven’t you heard? You can’t win a war without any casualties.”

Leorio’s voice is frosty. “There were innocents among those people you killed. And even if they were all evil, even then . . . that still doesn’t give you the right to murder them. Even the most evil people in the world can learn. They can get better. They can change.”

“The most evil people in the world? Like me, you mean?” When Leorio doesn’t respond, Hisoka presses on. “I knew it. You haven’t given up hope in me. You like me, don’t you? You appreciate the challenge I present. You consider us friends.”

Leorio only makes a wordless noise of disgust.

“Then, as your friend, I should warn you. Kurapika has gotten even wilder lately. Have you trained yourself to handle him yet? Three fingers might not be enough this time. Do you have a dildo?” When Leorio looks offended, Hisoka blows out a delicate sigh. “No, of course not. Why did I even ask. I forgot that you were the paragon of purity. Try a banana from the kitchen instead. Remember, fruits are your friends now.” 

“Fruits,” Leorio repeats, his voice full of spite.

“That’s right. Fruits. Including me, obviously.” Hisoka taps his index finger against his own cheek. “World’s biggest fucking fruit. Feel free to ask me for assistance any time.”

Hisoka unfolds his long body from the tub and clambers out.

Before Hisoka leaves the bathroom, he turns around to toss the lighter toward Leorio. It bounces off Leorio’s chest and clatters to the floor.

“Borrowed it,” Hisoka tells him. “You should watch over your things from now on. Someone like me can snatch away your most prized possessions if you’re not careful.”


	25. No more mind games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

The meeting stretches into midnight, then just keeps burning through the dark hours. Leorio falls asleep waiting for it to finish.

Another day has broken when he jerks awake. Two bodies have collapsed over his bed, nestling now on either side of his body. 

In a state of discombobulation, Leorio sits up to survey his sudden bedmates.

To Leorio’s right, Hanzo is muttering angrily with his eyes closed. “Man, I thought he’d never shut up. He just drones on and on forever. Blah, blah, blah. . . .” He opens his eyes to look at Leorio. “Hey, aren’t the two of you best friends? Do me a favor — ask Kurapika to pull that stick out of his ass.”

To Leorio’s left, Bill has smooshed his face against the pillow. Once Hanzo has fallen silent, Bill glances up briefly to say something to Leorio. “Kurapika is waiting for you in the kitchen. He said you two had some business?”

Once these words hit his ears, Leorio instantly snaps into alert mode. He vaults over Bill’s body and starts to stretch his long limbs.

He spreads a blanket over Hanzo’s and Bill’s slumbering bodies before he leaves the room. Over at the next bed, Izunavi groggily wishes him good luck.

Leorio drops by the bathroom to brush his teeth and primp and preen himself to perfection. Or as close to perfection as he can manage, anyway.

Is there any point to this? He already knows that in the face of true and effortless perfection, all his pretensions will fall away, leaving him to gape in wordless wonder.

After attacking his hair with a comb for a good three minutes, he’s finally forced to accept that this is as good as it will ever get.

“This is it, Leorio. The moment of truth. You’ll let him know how you feel, and you’ll learn to live with whatever answer he gives you.”

Leorio in the mirror nods back at him. In unison, they turn toward the door.

Alone in the kitchen, Kurapika is dozing off on a chair. His right hand holds his contact lens case over the table.

Leorio approaches him from behind and gently touches his back. “Kurapika?”

The name has barely left his lips when Kurapika springs up from his chair. In a single breathless second, Kurapika has bolted — he now stands with his back against the far wall. 

Kurapika flings out his right arm. A streak of silver, and suddenly the Stake of Retribution is hovering an inch from Leorio’s heart.

Leorio freezes as Kurapika fixes him with a deathly glare. Eyes flashing red. Stoplight red. Danger red.

Once Kurapika realizes what he’s doing, he gives a gasp of pure horror. The scarlet hue and chains vanish instantly.

Kurapika lunges toward Leorio and holds him tightly. He’s burying his face against Leorio’s shirt, apologizing now. Sorry and sorry and sorry once more. He’s trembling so hard that the vibrations pass over to Leorio’s bones.

Leorio wants to hug him in return, wants to take all his terror away. But which parts of Kurapika are hurting him at this moment? Leorio can’t be certain until he checks. He winds up stroking the small of Kurapika’s back. This area, he’s sure, didn’t receive any damage during the accident.

“I’m so sorry, Leorio,” Kurapika mumbles. “I almost hurt you. I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt you.”

Leorio’s voice is soothing. “Hey, no need to keep saying sorry. It’s not your fault. I snuck up on you. I wasn’t thinking. These past two days have been hard on you, I know.”

“I don’t know why I’m overreacting like this. I wasn’t even hurt by what happened.”

“Kurapika, even if you can make your wounds disappear, they still happened. They still hurt you. You can still recall the pain even when you can’t feel it anymore.”

Once Kurapika has calmed down, Leorio leads him to the kitchen table. They sit on adjacent chairs, with Leorio continuing to rub Kurapika’s lower back.

“Leorio, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“That can wait. I need to check on you first. I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Leorio asks Kurapika to take off his shirt. Kurapika does so, looking slightly nervous as he undoes his buttons.

Leorio repositions his chair and begins to palpate Kurapika’s back, emitting waves of aura from his fingertips. “Hmm. Your fractures have healed nicely. And the shattering in your bones wasn’t minor either. A perfect operation indeed.” A smile forms on his lips. “Your ability is really something. If only you could extend its application to other patients! Imagine everything you could do!”

“I’ll leave it to you to save the world, one patient at a time. I’m not as charitable as you are with my power or my attention.”

Leorio frowns as he continues studying Kurapika’s back. “This patch-up job on your lungs, however. . . . This part could have gone a lot better. There’s a bit of bleeding, a lot of bruising. Is it hard for you to breathe?”

“Definitely not as bad as yesterday morning. I was wheezing then.”

“No strenuous physical activities for now,” Leorio says firmly. “You know what I mean. Dr. Leorio’s orders, understand?”

“I understand. Ever known me to defy your orders, Dr. Leorio?”

“Don’t get cute with me now.”

Leorio is just about to stop palpating Kurapika’s torso when he notices something strange. He detects a superficial bruise spanning the area between the shoulder blades, but when he blinks the sonographic imagery away, the skin there appears clear and unmarked. 

Leorio launches into a second round of palpating, focusing now on skin-deep imperfections, and notes numerous other discrepancies.

“Dr. Leorio, how much longer is your checkup going to take?” Kurapika grumbles.

Leorio’s response is subdued. “Something isn’t right here. I can see two different versions of your body right now. The first version, which everyone can see, is flawless. The second version, which only I can see, is banged up.”

Kurapika’s eyes widen. “Oh. Are you sure it’s not a glitch? You said so yourself — Nen abilities aren’t perfect.”

“What type of glitch would send me visions of phantom lesions and contusions?” 

“Back when I was developing my abilities, I also had to work out several kinks. A glitch or two is par for the course. In fact, refining the complexities of the Steal Chain has been giving me such a headache these days. . . .”

No. Something simply isn’t right. Try as he might, Leorio can’t shake the feeling. “I don’t believe you. You’re hiding something from me. I can tell.”

Kurapika stammers for a bit, but is unable to formulate a plausible excuse. He finally admits to his deception and to Hisoka’s complicity in his attempt at concealment.

Leorio is incensed. “Kurapika! What the hell? You don’t think I already guessed that your day-long _strategy meeting_ with Hisoka was only an elaborate excuse —”

“But Hisoka and I were seriously discussing strategy. . . .”

“An elaborate excuse for you to indulge in your favorite bad habit? Just how dense do you think I am?! I’m more pissed off by the fact that you tried to hide it from me! With the help of your partner-in-crime, no less! And you have the nerve to try to gaslight me, to make me doubt my own ability?!”

Kurapika looks sullen. “I was only attempting to avoid this drama. . . .”

“Just how much are you willing to lie, all to dodge one difficult conversation?!”

Leorio rants for about five more minutes, and Kurapika just lets him. Kurapika listens quietly, maintaining eye contact the entire time. A tiny part of Leorio can’t help but melt, staring into those warm brown eyes, but the bigger part of him won’t waver. He’s right this time, and he needs to let Kurapika know it.

Once Leorio manages to get all the rage out of his system, he pulls Kurapika into a hug. He squeezes so hard that he feels Kurapika flinch.

Leorio is still fuming. “I don’t want to get mad at you right now. I don’t want to shout at you like this. Not when I’m leaving so soon. Why can’t you just . . . _behave?_ Just for one freaking day?”

“I’m sorry, Leorio. I shouldn’t have lied. That was a shitty thing to do to my favorite person.”

Leorio pulls away to look at him intently. “Your teacher and I are leaving tonight. We’re heading back to the medical ward.”

“Yes, I heard from Melody.”

“This way, Izunavi can also receive intensive treatment for his fractures. I wish I could bring you back with me too, but —”

Kurapika finishes the sentence for him. “But I’m too busy here, trying to win this war.”

“Come visit me in a week, okay? I want to check on your lungs again, and get you the help you need. In the meantime, call the medical ward right away if you experience any breathing difficulties. Or any distressing symptoms at all.”

Leorio embraces Kurapika again, tenderly this time.

Kurapika’s head shifts against his chest. His voice then drifts upward to point out the obvious. “Leorio, your heart is beating really fast. So fast that it’s almost scary.”

“It _is_ scary,” Leorio replies. “Loving you is always this scary, Kurapika.”

Kurapika stiffens immediately in his arms. Leorio releases him, then clumsily gets down on his knees.

Leorio perches his elbows on Kurapika’s lap and gazes up at his face. Kurapika gazes back down, his expression inscrutable.

Leorio’s words spill from his chest like a series of mistakes. “Um, okay. I’m just now realizing how awkward this position is. I wasn’t planning on kneeling down like this. Should I sit down again and talk to you like a regular person? Or should I confess my feelings while staring at your stomach? Which option would be less embarrassing at this point?”

What the hell is Leorio saying? Why is he rambling to Kurapika like this? What happened to all the lines that he delivered smoothly in the bathroom to an audience of one — that psychopathic killer clown chilling in the bathtub? Is _Hisoka_ actually going to receive a better confession from Leorio than Kurapika ever will?

Leorio shakes his head wildly, trying to rid himself of these thoughts. Concentrate, Leorio! Power through! Confess to him now!

Leorio grasps Kurapika’s thighs with his large hands and blurts out his feelings. “I’m in love with you, Kurapika. I want to date you. I want to kiss you whenever I get the urge to. I want you all to myself. I want you beside me forever. And even when you aren’t by my side . . . even when you’re too busy waging wars somewhere, I want you to know that there’ll always be a spot next to me, reserved just for you.”

A long silence follows this confession.

Kurapika finally speaks. “Is that what you wanted to say to me?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Anything else? Are you done?”

Leorio considers this. Should he bring up the other part that he practiced, about fucking Kurapika good and satisfying him sexually? Somehow, Hisoka’s glowing approval of that portion of his speech has the opposite effect on him. Leorio doesn’t want to mention that anymore. 

Leorio should keep it simple for now. Keep it sweet.

“That’s everything,” Leorio confirms. “I love you, Kurapika. I’m so in love with you, it’s not even funny.”

Kurapika furrows his brows. “Just stand up. Just stop this, Leorio. Stop degrading yourself like this. You’re better than this.”

Leorio remains kneeling, his hands still clutching Kurapika’s legs. “I’m not degrading myself,” he protests. “I’m trying to tell you that I love —”

Kurapika jumps up from his chair, which causes Leorio to teeter backward. “Please don’t say it another time. _Please._ You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Kurapika yanks Leorio to his feet — his grip is rough, the chains reappearing over his right hand mid-pull. “What’s wrong with you?” he demands, still holding Leorio’s arm. “No, I get it now. You’re confused.”

“I’m confused . . .?” Leorio is indeed extremely confused about what’s happening. What is Kurapika even doing? What is he trying to say?

Kurapika begins pacing the kitchen. “This is my fault. I knew it. I never should have touched you from the start. I didn’t expect you to take it seriously, at first. I only wanted to make it fun for you to be around me. I only wanted to amuse you for a while, to distract you with these games. I needed an excuse to be close to you because I enjoy your company. Of course, I realized at some point just how selfish I was being, toying with your feelings this way. But by then it was already too late. We were too far gone. I tried to put an end to it, but neither of us could stay away.”

Leorio just watches as Kurapika strides back and forth in a state of palpable agitation.

Kurapika’s voice is tinged with desperation now. “I led you on, then cut you off. My fault. All my goddamn fault. What you feel . . . it isn’t love, okay? It’s sexual frustration, plain and simple. So let’s just pretend —”

Leorio is abruptly furious. He grabs Kurapika’s shoulders to make him stay still. “Stop it, Kurapika! Shut up! Just shut up!”

Kurapika shuts up, as asked.

“Don’t you dare tell me what my feelings are! I _know_ what they are! You don’t get to belittle my feelings. You don’t get to twist them around to suit yourself.”

Kurapika stays silent.

“Sex was _always_ secondary to me, okay? I’m not some sex-obsessed freak. I want to be with you because I love you. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” Leorio pauses to take a deep breath. “I want to hear you say it, Kurapika. I want to hear you acknowledge my feelings.”

Kurapika’s voice is reluctant. “I acknowledge your feelings, Leorio.”

“Repeat after me: Leorio loves me. Leorio is in love with me.”

“Leorio loves me. Leorio is in love with me.”

Leorio is testing him, trying to gauge how he feels about saying these words out loud. As always, Kurapika is difficult to read. There’s nothing Leorio can do but ask him directly.

“Kurapika, how do you feel about me?”

Kurapika stares at him. “How do you think I feel about you?”

“No more mind games, Kurapika. Tell me your feelings, and be honest.”

“Leorio . . . I warned you before, didn’t I? I told you that it was a bad idea to expect the same things from me that normal people can give you easily. I can’t give you any of the things that you want from me. It’s not because I don’t like you. . . . I just don’t have anything left to give. I can’t be with you. I’m sorry.”

And that’s it. That’s final. Kurapika can’t return his feelings.

Every word of Kurapika’s rejection is another puncture wound to Leorio’s heart. Maybe the Stake of Retribution really stabbed him earlier, and he’s only now realizing it. He’s bleeding past his ribs, soaking the floor with the pumping flow of his blood.

Can Kurapika see this? Does he even care?

Leorio struggles to form words. “That — that’s a no, then. You’re saying no to me. Got it.”

Kurapika shakes his head. “I’m not saying no to you, specifically. I’m saying no to everybody. I hope you understand that. I’ve already told you more than once that you’re my favorite person in the entire living world. I wish that was enough, but it’s not.”

Kurapika moves toward the door, but Leorio catches him before he can make his exit.

“Kurapika? Before you go, can I have one last request? Like a goodbye gift, I guess?”

“What do you want from me?” Kurapika asks.

“One kiss. I won’t ask you for anything after that. Just one kiss, then I’ll leave you alone forever. I won’t force you to deal with my feelings anymore.”

Kurapika thinks about this. “A kiss. . . . No, I don’t want to kiss you. But. . . .” His expression is serious. “I won’t mind having sex. Just once. I really want to have sex with you, Leorio. Do you want to?”

Leorio’s heart starts to thump loudly in his chest. How can his treacherous heart be this excited right now, even after taking such a brutal beating? 

Leorio parts his mouth, an enthusiastic assent already halfway out, then clamps his lips again. 

Leorio screws his eyes shut, already pissed with himself for what he’s about to say. “No. No sex. If I get to hold you that way one time, and never get to touch you again after that, I’ll never recover. You’ll ruin me forever.”

Kurapika sighs. “Okay, Leorio. If that’s what you want.”

“I just don’t get you. Why offer sex but not allow me one measly kiss?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Kurapika says. “When there’s kissing, there are feelings involved. Things will get even more complicated.”

“But I do have feelings for you, Kurapika.”

“And I have to reject your feelings. I’m sorry, Leorio.”

Kurapika tries to inject these words with a sense of finality. He’s dying to make his escape now, to seek solace from a reliable source. But to his surprise, Leorio only appears to gather strength with every passing second. He’s not backing down.

“Look, Kurapika. I still don’t get _why_ you’re rejecting my feelings. You were telling me no in such a roundabout way earlier. Can you help me understand what you mean? Don’t you at least owe me that much?”

“Which part do you not understand?”

“I’m your favorite person, right?” Leorio presses. “You want to be close to me. You enjoy my company. You said that.”

Kurapika nods. “I did say that. I meant it.”

“When we touch each other, do you hate it?”

“I always feel . . . guilty whenever I touch you,” Kurapika admits. “Like I’m tainting something good and pure.”

“Then you hate it.”

“No, I can’t say I hate it. Leorio, you always look and sound and taste and feel like a dream. So warm, so open. I have no reason to hate any of that. Your expression when I turn you on or please you . . . is probably the hottest thing to me. Ever.”

Leorio swallows. “Then . . . why don’t you just _try_ being with me? You don’t have to do anything special. Just be by my side. Just let me touch you sometimes.”

“If we were friends, we could do that, sure. But now. . . .”

“We’re still friends!”

“It’s different now,” Kurapika says. “It would be selfish of me to continue doing these things if I can’t reciprocate your feelings.”

“What if that’s what I’m asking? What if I want you to be selfish with me? What if I’m okay with that?”

As Leorio regains his resolve, Kurapika curses at himself. Kurapika is going about this the wrong way. He’s being too honest. In order to protect Leorio, he has to lie again.

Kurapika has to hurt Leorio, hard. Identify his weak spots. Attack each vulnerability. Eliminate any possibilities for counterattack.

This dream was fun while it lasted, but it’s time to wake up now. Kurapika needs to let go of Leorio, to let him escape from the sinkhole of his own story. This way, this good and pure and beautiful person that he treasures will be safe and sound.

Pain is merely temporary. Leorio will forget about him soon enough. Kurapika never will, and that’s okay. All Kurapika wants is for Leorio to heal and grow and thrive. Even if Kurapika can only watch from a distance, perhaps even oceans or skies away.


	26. Curious coalescence of color

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Curled up on the sofa, Melody composes a song. Soft, warm, uplifting — that’s the sort of sound she’s seeking to emulate. She periodically jots down the notes on the journal beside her. She’s purposefully ignoring the voices in the kitchen, trying as best as she can to respect the privacy of their owners.

On the floor nearby, Hisoka sits building a house of cards. He’s humming to himself as he considers where to position the Two of Hearts.

Melody’s ears prick. She stops playing and rests her flute over her lap. “Can you hear that?”

Hisoka glances at her. “Hear what? Something other than the dulcet tones of your deceptively dangerous instrument, you mean?”

Melody chews on her lip as she continues listening to the noises that Hisoka can’t hear. She makes her decision and stands up from the sofa. “Hisoka, can I leave you to guard the entrance for an hour or so? I expect that Kurapika will be joining you soon.”

“Will he now? In that case, feel free to leave and never come back. Kurapika and I will be _just fine_ on our own.”

Melody leaves Hisoka to head toward the kitchen. She meets Kurapika just as he’s walking out. Kurapika narrows his eyes once he spots her.

Melody speaks before he can say anything. “Leorio is crying, right? You made him cry, then you left him all alone.”

Kurapika leans against the wall by the kitchen door. He folds his arms over his chest and gazes down at the floor. “I did do that, yes.”

“So what are you waiting for? Go back and apologize. He needs you.”

Kurapika meets her eyes now. “I’m not going back. I can’t give him what he needs.”

Melody stares him down. Kurapika is the first to look away.

“Will you do me a favor?” Kurapika asks her. “Please look after Leorio. Please make sure he’s okay.”

“Even if you hadn’t asked, I would have done that anyway. Why else do you think I’m here?”

“If you were already planning to comfort him, why did you tell me to go back?”

“I wanted to give you a chance to change your mind,” Melody says quietly. “Your heart is wavering, even now. It’s not too late to choose him, you know?”

The concern on Kurapika’s face wipes blank in a second. His expression is detached as he pushes off the wall and walks away.

“I’ll leave him to you then,” Kurapika says over his shoulder. “I owe you for this, Melody.”

By the kitchen table, shuddering sobs wrack Leorio’s body. No matter how big he is, when he’s coiled up this tightly, he seems almost small.

Melody approaches him and asks him if he wants a hug. Leorio is crying too hard to speak, but he nods. She wraps her arms around him and pats his back until his wailing subsides.

Leorio eventually extracts himself from Melody’s embrace and begins to confide. “I don’t know what I was expecting, really. But not this. Anything but this.”

“You didn’t think Kurapika would reject you?”

“I didn’t think he’d be this cruel.”

“I see,” Melody says. “He went out of his way to make you hate him.”

“He tried, maybe. But it didn’t work. I could never.”

“So you don’t regret falling for him?”

Leorio shakes his head. “Even after all this torture, all his endless mind games . . . I don’t regret a single thing. I don’t care if that makes me sound pathetic. I just love him so much, and I can’t change a damn thing about it.”

“That’s good, Leorio. Let yourself feel this. Understand this — you aren’t pathetic for allowing your feelings to carry you away. You took the risk of loving someone and letting them know, and that makes you the strongest of them all.”

Leorio gives her a shaky smile. “Strong, huh. That’s the last word I’d use to describe myself right now.”

“I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. I really believe that. In fact, I was writing a song that your strong heart inspired just now. It’s not finished yet, but would you like to hear what I have so far?”

Leorio’s jaw drops. “Seriously? That’s so freaking sweet! Of course I’d love to hear it!”

Melody lays down her journal on the kitchen table so that she can consult it as she plays the verses of her three-quarters-composed musical piece. Leorio listens, so utterly enraptured that he momentarily forgets that he’s supposed to be grieving.

Kurapika hunts for Hisoka and finds him in the living room. Kurapika crashes down on the sofa and starts screaming bloody murder against a pillow.

Hisoka is just placing the Three of Hearts on the apex of his tower of cards. “Upset about something? Fighting with your boyfriend?”

Kurapika’s voice is muffled. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“What happened?”

“Leorio confessed. He told me he loved me.”

Hisoka smiles. “Congratulations. You’re no longer boyfriends because you’re now lawfully wedded husbands? How charming. Why didn’t you invite your concubine to your wedding?”

Kurapika lifts his face from the pillow to glare at him. “I rejected him. I rejected my favorite person in the entire living world. I _hurt_ him and _hurt_ him until he couldn’t stop crying. Think you’re a monster? Well, guess what? I’m worse.”

Hisoka raises an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “But why reject him when you love him? Are you really that addicted to self-sabotage?”

“I never said I loved him. You assumed that all on your own, and I allowed you to run away with your imagination.”

Hisoka thinks about this. It’s true, Kurapika never confirmed this, but. . . .

“The truth is, I have no idea what I want from Leorio. I never did. Intensity, perhaps. Intimacy, reciprocity, companionship . . . those indulgent sorts of things that I’ll never deserve, not in this lifetime or in the next. But not love. Definitely not love.” Kurapika turns over on the sofa to gaze up at the ceiling. “I’ll never love anyone. Or, to be more specific, I can’t love anyone again. I certainly wouldn’t want to waste anyone’s time by permitting them to love me.”

“That’s not something you can permit or prohibit, you know? If someone feels that way, then they feel that way, permission be damned.”

“I know. It’s frustrating. Nauseating, even.”

“Want to feel better?” Hisoka says brightly. “I know a way.”

Kurapika sighs. “I don’t want to have sex with you, Hisoka.”

“Good, because I don’t want to have sex with you either. If you’re in this type of mood, you’ll only suck me dry again.” Hisoka shudders delicately. “Besides, if you start crying on me while we’re in the middle of it, I’ll wilt right inside you.”

“I’m not going to cry.”

“Maybe you should,” Hisoka suggests. “You may have perfected the art of the poker face, but a sopping wet cry may be a good idea, every once in a while. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Maybe. But I don’t have any control over that. I mean, I _can’t_ cry. I haven’t cried since I was twelve.”

“When you were twelve. . . .”

Kurapika stares at the ceiling with dead eyes. “Lost my love, my clan, my home. Lost my whole world. Never got any of it back.”

Hisoka pauses for a few seconds. He wonders whether he should let Kurapika know what he’s already guessed. Why not?

“Pairo, right? The only boy you ever loved.” When Kurapika is taken aback by this, Hisoka explains. “You always call his name in your sleep.”

Kurapika is quiet for a while, seeming to contemplate something. “Hisoka, can I tell you something that I’ve never told anyone before?”

Hisoka abandons his cards to slide closer to the sofa. He perches his chin on top of Kurapika’s left arm, waiting. Kurapika plays with Hisoka’s fiery hair with his chained hand as he reveals his secret.

“There’s this recurring nightmare I have,” Kurapika says. “Sure, when I’m awake, I might experience brief flashes of warmth and happiness. You’ve seen them. I’ve felt them with you, many times. But whenever I sleep, that moment ambushes me again, and I’m as cold and alone as I was the first time. I can never escape that day.”

“That day, when you were twelve.”

“Yes. Everyone I care about, dead. Pairo — my love, my everything — dead. Where everyone’s eyes and hearts used to be, only holes are left. But not Pairo. Pairo doesn’t even have his head. I can’t kiss his perfect face goodbye. There’s nothing left except his wasted body, his lacerated neck. And that’s the only way I can see my beloved now.” Kurapika closes his eyes. “Well. One of two ways.”

Silence, then — 

“Don’t say that.” Hisoka’s voice sounds almost angry.

Kurapika opens his eyes to look at Hisoka. “I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I’ll be lonely if you go. _Never_ say that again, do you hear me?”

Kurapika sits up on the sofa. “Hisoka, if you weren’t talking about sex, what were you talking about then? What can possibly make me feel better right now?”

Hisoka slides back to his card tower and gestures toward it. “This. Want to tear it down? It’s all yours for the wrecking.”

Kurapika stretches out his arm, as if about to destroy Hisoka’s hard work with a lazy wave of his chained hand.

Instead, Kurapika pounces. Crashing against the tower on the way, he pins Hisoka down on the floor. The cards are fluttering all around their bodies as they stare steadily at each other.

Hisoka tugs his right wrist free from Kurapika’s hold. He reaches up to cup Kurapika’s cheek.

Kurapika’s brown eyes are intense. They seem to be asking Hisoka a silent question. What that question might be, Hisoka doesn’t know, let alone its answer.

“I take back everything I ever said about your scarlet eyes,” Hisoka tells him. “I believe I like your brown eyes equally as much. They’re now tied for my favorite color.”

“A tie, huh? However will we break it? I have a factoid for you that will tip the scales in the superior direction. Over half of the global population has brown eyes. This color is as common as dirt.”

“Common or uncommon, I don’t care. I still want to kiss you senseless when you look at me like that.”

Kurapika’s tone is challenging. “You want to kiss me? Then why don’t you?”

“You don’t kiss, right?”

Kurapika collapses on the floor beside Hisoka. The cards around their bodies skitter away as he falls. He covers his face with his hands. “I forgot to tell you. I recently kissed Leorio on the lips. It was my first time kissing anyone. Ever. And I did it without thinking about it. And I still don’t know why.”

“I know why.”

Kurapika lowers his hands to look at him. “Why then?”

“You needed to kiss him. At that moment, you felt like you might die if you didn’t kiss him.”

Kurapika thinks back on it. “That’s exactly right. How do you know that?”

“Because that’s the way I feel right now.”

Hisoka rolls on top of Kurapika and kisses his mouth.

The kiss is electric. They both pull away at the same time to stare at each other, equally startled by the currents pulsing between every point where their skins are connecting.

Then, in unison, they crush their lips together again, abandoning all restraint to the unprecedented pleasure of commingling breath and exploring tongues. 

Sparks are jolting up and down their spines. Shivers. Shivers, all the time.

Hisoka comes up for air after a while. The wonder he feels lights up his lover’s eyes in just the same way. Together, they’re finally confirming what they’ve separately suspected — this anomalously rare chemical compatibility that they share.

Hisoka’s smile is giddy. “Feels good, huh?”

“Understatement of the century. Hisoka, you’re blowing my fucking mind.”

“That’s right. Don’t think about it too much. Just let yourself get carried away with me.”

Kurapika balls Hisoka’s flaming hair into a fist, ready to yank him down again. “Why do I always let you do this to me?”

“Because it isn’t complicated between us. It’s easy. We know what we want from each other.”

Kurapika impatiently bridges the distance between them, and they lose themselves to the feeling once more. Kurapika flinches after a few minutes, and Hisoka stops to check on his face.

“What’s wrong, Kurapika?”

“My back is hurting. Just a little bit. It’s no big deal.”

Hisoka transfers them to the sofa. He stretches out over the cushions and arranges Kurapika’s body on top of him.

“Does it still hurt in this position?” Hisoka inquires.

In response, Kurapika recaptures his lips. Now that he has more freedom to move, his hands take the opportunity to wander everywhere under Hisoka’s shirt. His fingers trace the sharp contours of Hisoka’s abdomen, squeeze his narrow waist, tweak his nipples.

Hisoka strains upward to allow Kurapika to massage his back. As Kurapika lays his palms flat against his upper back, Hisoka comes to the belated realization that the chains are deactivated, and probably have been since they started making out.

Every time Kurapika breaks off the kissing to catch his breath, he stares down hungrily at Hisoka’s lips. His brown eyes keep flickering in and out of their scarlet state. Hisoka doubts that Kurapika even realizes what his eyes are doing. 

This curious coalescence of color excites Hisoka so much that he has to repeatedly remind himself not to ravage Kurapika underneath his clothes. Now isn’t the time for that.

They’ve been kissing nonstop for close to an hour when they hear one of the doors — who even knows which one? — creaking open.

Kurapika plants a swift smooch on Hisoka’s ear and whispers, “Bathroom. Meet me in a minute.”

Kurapika leaps off from Hisoka’s body and lopes off without another word.

Dazed, Hisoka sits up on the sofa. He tosses a pillow over his lap to conceal his throbbing erection. He’s tenting his pants so prominently that the pillow refuses to lie flat.

Shimano wanders into view. She’s tidying up, collecting the cards scattered all over the floor.

Gazing toward Shimano’s general direction without truly seeing her, Hisoka traces his mouth with his index finger. Even though his lips are tender now — aching, almost — he only craves to taste Kurapika once again. The boy is undeniably addictive in all possible ways.

Hisoka silently counts to sixty, then decides to test his partner’s patience. He resets to zero, counting all the way to a hundred.

By then, Hisoka can’t wait any longer either. He sprints to the bathroom and throws open the door. The moment that Hisoka gets inside, Kurapika jumps on him, his legs locking around Hisoka’s waist, and his arms roping around Hisoka’s neck.

“What took you so long?” Kurapika groans irritably against Hisoka’s mouth. “I _missed_ you, you fucker.”

Hisoka pinches Kurapika’s ass in response, and Kurapika retaliates by nibbling on Hisoka’s bottom lip.

Not breaking their kiss, Hisoka sets Kurapika down on the bathroom counter. Even though they’re both hard, painfully so, they don’t shed any of their clothes. They don’t venture any further. They simply stay in this fervent fog of kissing, sharing a single pocket of air between two ravenous mouths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know the past two chapters have been somewhat depressing. Writing two specific paragraphs within the last two chapters set me off sobbing. I literally haven’t cried that hard since the Darkest Age of my life, approximately a year ago now. The catharsis was truly something.
> 
> So, for my birthday, I decided to treat myself — and anyone else who might need it — by sharing this playlist. I’ll leave it to you to guess which tracks correspond to which character and/or pairing. Have fun!
> 
> 1\. [Overthinking IT — WILLOW](https://youtu.be/lkbm-QUo4rM)  
> 2\. [Relief Next to Me — MUNA (Tegan and Sara Cover)](https://youtu.be/WoGhTABgKEM)  
> 3\. [So Many People — Two Door Cinema Club](https://youtu.be/K1E5vlWsxHM)  
> 4\. [Sugar — Sufjan Stevens](https://youtu.be/56bU7xAU1tM)  
> 5\. [Break for Lovers — Men I Trust feat. Helena Deland](https://youtu.be/wFuTmVTZc5U)  
> 6\. [Everything Is Embarrassing — Sky Ferreira](https://youtu.be/rEamE0MYPkg)  
> 7\. [Let Me In — Tiny Deaths](https://tinydeaths.bandcamp.com/track/let-me-in)  
> 8\. [Total Zombie — Day Wave](https://soundcloud.com/day-wave/day-wave-total-zombie)  
> 9\. [ok on your own — mxmtoon feat. Carly Rae Jepsen](https://youtu.be/RjE3egXFUTw)  
> 10\. [Better Off Alone — Purity Ring (Alice Deejay Cover)](https://youtu.be/kCp1781hrdY)  
> 11\. [If I Could Change Your Mind — HAIM](https://youtu.be/Ljg6g7BAdQo)  
> 12\. [Begin — Shallou feat. Wales](https://youtu.be/b55P1KaiSF0)  
> 13\. [Find Yourself — Great Good Fine Ok, Before You Exit](https://youtu.be/VxbPqcR4LYM)  
> 14\. [Evening Ceremony — Active Child](https://youtu.be/o3xmMjoUweo)  
> 15\. [Devils Angel — Unloved](https://youtu.be/oIox8F0049o)  
> 16\. [P0WDER — Now, Now](https://youtu.be/5XtiuSOWnyQ)  
> 17\. [One Night Stand — Banoffee](https://youtu.be/OPvHhZRmuEE)  
> 18\. [Screwed — Janelle Monáe feat. Zoë Kravitz](https://youtu.be/BLPV55zXwJM)  
> 19\. [U Make Me Sick — HOLYCHILD](https://youtu.be/FEE0Yb3FD_w)  
> 20\. [Poison — Girl Friend](https://open.spotify.com/track/7JKGMlRO9egsTPss4iSYJy?si=1UpoqSPYQeWKbYCy8cDWwA)  
> 21\. [I Caught Myself — Paramore](https://youtu.be/GLNni7IL268)  
> 22\. [Feel It In My Bones — Tiësto feat. Tegan and Sara](https://youtu.be/ygQtml-Xsog)  
> 23\. [Crime of Passion — Tim Atlas](https://youtu.be/zm4DH8n1-AQ)
> 
> You can also listen to the full playlist on Spotify: [echoes of home [leohisopika mix]](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/77w2QpgJuqixTv7Wih7BMn?si=jxNlJRv6S0K9Pqen9NhjDA)


	27. Encirclement of chain burns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Hanzo and Bill wake up at noon, refreshed and ready to resume their guarding duties. Before they can leave the employees’ bedroom, however, Izunavi stops them with a request.

“Once Leorio enters the room, cheer with me,” Izunavi tells them. “Clap your hands on my behalf. As you can see, my broken arms prevent me from fully conveying my festive mood.”

“What are we celebrating?” Bill asks.

Izunavi flashes an enigmatic smile. “It’s just . . . such a wonderful time to be alive, isn’t it?”

Hanzo is incredulous. “Hah?! How random! Did you bang your head and forget? We’re in the middle of a war! So many people have died!” His expression turns sour. “Not to mention, almost all of those deaths were caused by one of us. . . .”

Izunavi’s tone is bracing. “But we’re still alive, right? All the more reason to celebrate! My recent brush with mortality has inspired a newfound appreciation for healthcare professionals like Leorio.”

“I’m surprised Leorio hasn’t returned yet,” Bill says. “Don’t tell me — is he _still_ talking to Kurapika? How long have those two been discussing their mysterious business?”

“That’s why I think he’ll be here any moment now. He promised to report back to me with the news.” At this point, Izunavi begins to laugh. “Oh boy. I can’t wait for you guys to hear all about this. It’s going to blow your minds!”

With impeccable timing, Leorio just then enters the bedroom. The three men turn toward him, expectant.

“Congrats, Leorio!” Izunavi booms. “Our boy becomes a man today!”

Hanzo and Bill clap and cheer, echoing Izunavi’s congratulations with only minimal confusion.

Leorio, who has been rubbing his eyes, lowers his hand to reveal that his eyes are puffy and red. He has obviously been crying.

Hanzo and Bill exchange uncomfortable looks.

“Leorio, did Kurapika. . . .” Izunavi trails off, uncertain.

The concern on Izunavi’s face breaks Leorio all over again. Leorio shuffles forward and bumps his head against Izunavi’s shoulder, bawling uncontrollably once more. No matter how many tears he expends, his body seems to generate an endless supply.

Hanzo’s voice is hushed. “Leorio, has something happened to Kurapika? Has he been injured again, or . . .?”

Izunavi grimaces at Hanzo and Bill over Leorio’s shuddering shoulders. “Nah, I’m sure Kurapika is fine. I’m guessing he’s just _peachy_. You two can go. I’ll handle Leorio on my own.”

Hanzo and Bill leave, closing the door behind them.

Izunavi makes Leorio sit down on the bed and talk about what happened.

“Kurapika rejected you, then _insulted_ you?!” Izunavi is in utter disbelief. “But why?! He’s got a huge crush on you! He told me about it himself, literally just yesterday!”

Leorio is staring down at his lap. “He might have been lying. He does that a lot.”

“You mean he lies to you too?”

Leorio nods. “To me, and to everyone else, probably. You know the nature of his work. You know how it clashes with his ideals.”

“If Kurapika can’t be honest with even _you,_ his closest friend in the world, what makes you think that a relationship with him can ever succeed in the long run? How can you ever trust him?”

Leorio doesn’t have answers to these questions. Izunavi can practically see the cogs creaking in Leorio’s brain, snail-paced in his stupor of sadness.

Feeling sorry for him, Izunavi decides to let it go. “Listen, Leorio. It sucks to be rejected, I know. But you need to look at the bright side, okay? My student has issues, a whole host of them. If you want to hear my honest and unfiltered opinion, I’d say that you dodged a bullet when he rejected you.”

Izunavi knows what he’s talking about, that’s for sure. He’s personally witnessed the devilish undercurrents lurking behind Kurapika’s angelic face. The chain burns encircling Izunavi’s torso . . . those took weeks to fade.

“Time for some push-ups, Kurapika. How about a thousand, to start?”

Kurapika is glaring at the floor, as if hoping that it will swallow him whole.

“No complaints,” Izunavi snaps. “You asked me to punish you, remember? I’m simply giving you what you asked for.”

“I’m not trying to complain or defy you, Master. It’s just. . . .” Kurapika pauses to massage his temple with his chained hand. “My head is pounding, for some ungodly reason. I believed these migraines to be long over. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Do I look like I care? Enough excuses. Get down. Now.”

Though obviously reluctant, Kurapika lies stomach-down on the floor. He’s just about to lift himself up by his arms, when Izunavi plants a foot squarely on the center of his back.

Kurapika recoils violently, and a sheen of sweat breaks out over his nape. Izunavi waits for Kurapika to object, but he doesn’t.

“What’s going on with you?” Izunavi inquires. “Didn’t you heal your back with the Holy Chain? That’s what Leorio said.”

Kurapika’s voice is shaky. “Yes, I took care of all that.”

“Okay, good. I wasn’t 100% sure whether I heard Leorio correctly. He was crying too hard to properly enunciate all his words.”

Somewhat predictably, Kurapika doesn’t respond to the veiled accusation. He remains quiet even as Izunavi lowers himself over his body.

Sitting cross-legged over Kurapika’s back, Izunavi now commands him to commence his punishment. “We don’t have all day. I expect you to complete a thousand push-ups before I leave for the third tier.”

Kurapika does as he’s told. Izunavi counts to a hundred, at which point he orders his student to alternate between using only his right arm, then only his left arm, for every ten push-ups.

Izunavi looks critically at Kurapika’s wobbly form. “Are you sure that you’ve recovered? This should be a piece of cake for you. Don’t tell me you’ve softened since the last time I punished you like this?”

“You tell me, Master. Do you think I’ve softened?”

“Hmm. Your body looked healthy enough before the voyage, but you’ve lost a ton of weight since then. A lot of muscle too, apparently.”

“My rage keeps me hard.” Even as Kurapika says this, his body is teetering, more and more.

“It’s not so fun being on the bottom now, is it?” Izunavi taunts.

“Master, even when you’re beneath me, you retain complete control over me, you know?”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

Izunavi recalls every detail of their night together more starkly than he’d like to admit. Right before the Black Whale set sail, his student visited him in his hotel room under the pretense of seeking advice for his new Stealth Dolphin. 

Izunavi was in the middle of answering a question about the potential side effects of loaning Nen abilities when Kurapika was, quite suddenly, kneeling down and unzipping his teacher’s pants. Izunavi tried his damnedest to maintain a dignified air, even as his student kissed him down there. But once the warm and probing tongue lapped over his length, then repeated the motion with more urgency, with increasing pressure . . . pleasure clouded out his every train of thought, his very sense of place and time.

Before Izunavi could process what he was permitting to happen, what taboo coupling could occur if he didn’t protest at the soonest opportunity, Kurapika was already shoving him down, chaining him down to the bed. Just like that — another layer of control, gone. Then Kurapika climbed on top and proceeded to obliterate his every last modicum of control.

Who knew? Who could have guessed that hearing his hardheaded student softly sighing _master, master, master_ would send him off like this, hurl him straight into starry space?

Izunavi soiled three condoms, with Kurapika efficiently teasing him back into hardness with his lips and fingers each time. Only then did Kurapika declare himself satisfied. This verbal assertion was swiftly followed by the physical evidence of his satisfaction, streaking all over Izunavi’s chest.

Once Kurapika had unchained him, Izunavi lay sprawled out over the sheets, trying to regain the sensation in his limbs and the oxygen in his lungs. How could he even be this breathless when he was only lying back and enjoying his student’s eager ministrations the entire time?

Kurapika was facing away, lacing up his oxfords, when Izunavi suggested — and Kurapika confirmed — that, as far as the two of them were concerned, this last hour had never happened. Kurapika then wished his teacher a good night and departed, not bothering to ask any more questions about Conjured animals or stolen abilities.

At this point, Izunavi jolts out of his reverie. At first, he’s unsure about what has summoned him back to the present, then he recognizes it — the pungent smell of danger. A malignant aura is approaching. 

In a split second, Hisoka has appeared, seemingly out of thin air, right in front of Izunavi and Kurapika. There’s a menacing smile on his face, which sends shivers down Izunavi’s spine and phantom pains over his fractured arms.

Hisoka addresses Kurapika. “Hey there, pretty boy. Should I pull this ugly bastard off you? Say the word, and his broken body will vanish instantly from this ship. _Poof!_ A fine magic trick!”

Kurapika’s tone is mild. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m handling it. Just stand by, Hisoka.”

Hisoka hovers nearby. Even though Hisoka still smiles that terrible smile, Izunavi detects a note of anxiety in the clown’s eyes as they silently observe the sweat running down Kurapika’s face and pooling over the floor.

Before too long, the silence is broken by a strangled yell. Leorio, witnessing the admittedly strange scene of Kurapika’s punishment, rushes forward in a frenzy of panic. He lifts Izunavi and sets him aside, then checks on Kurapika.

“Kurapika! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! Can you breathe?! Talk to me! Please talk to me!” Leorio’s voice thunders too loudly, and his saliva flecks all over Kurapika’s face. 

Kurapika extricates himself from Leorio’s hold. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away the spittle and sweat. He doesn’t meet Leorio’s eyes when he speaks. “I’m perfectly fine. It was wonderful exercise. I feel reenergized now. Thanks for this, Master Izunavi.”

Kurapika then grasps Hisoka by the elbow and starts to drag him away.

“Where do you think you’re going, you useless student?!” Izunavi barks. “In case you’ve already forgotten, this wasn’t supposed to be your new exercise regimen! This was your punishment!”

Kurapika stops in his tracks and turns back to Izunavi. He gazes down at the floor as he seems to consider something. Whilst deep in contemplation, he leans his back against Hisoka’s chest, anchored by its solid presence behind him.

After a minute, Kurapika looks at Izunavi again. “I won’t be able to see the two of you off tonight, so let me mention a few things before I forget. First, be wary around Giuliano when you meet him again. He may have been Manipulated into betraying the Hunter Association to the Kakin Empire, but that doesn’t mean that his intentions were entirely pure even before the Manipulation occurred. The Dowsing Chain detected some deception in him, after all. And second, Hisoka here. . . .” At the sound of his name, Hisoka begins playing with Kurapika’s blond hair, and Kurapika squints with only barely concealed contentment. “Hisoka here has an intimate associate who was considerate enough to neutralize all surveillance over the second and third tiers. I wouldn’t mention this to the rest of the Zodiac Twelve just yet. The possibility is high that there is yet another spy among its ranks. But if it’s just the two of you . . . Hisoka and I trust you both enough to reveal this crucial information. Use this advantage wisely, understand?”

Izunavi is unimpressed. “That’s a nice speech and all, but that doesn’t mean that you can worm your way out of punishment!”

“I’ve learned my lesson, Master. I’m a better man now, thanks to your invaluable guidance.” Ignoring Izunavi’s derisive snort, Kurapika finally meets Leorio’s eyes. “Take care of yourself, Leorio. The war may soon seep over to the third tier.”

Deaf to Izunavi’s continued protests, Kurapika now leaves with Hisoka. As they’re walking away, Hisoka drapes his arm over Kurapika’s shoulders and kisses the side of his perspiring head.

Izunavi’s protests peter out once he witnesses this kiss. “Those two had that sort of relationship all this time, huh? I thought Kurapika was exaggerating when he called Hisoka his pet. Just how loose is that boy’s bottom half, if he’s permitting even total psychos to get inside there. . . .”

Leorio glares at him. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Even though it’s true?”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You can’t slut-shame Kurapika in front of me. I won’t allow it.”

“Why do you keep defending him?” Izunavi scoffs. “Wasn’t he the one who verbally attacked you and made you cry?”

“He didn’t _want_ to do that! That was my own fault! I was being too damn persistent! I wouldn’t take no for an answer! He only did what he needed to do to discourage me!”

Izunavi groans. “Leorio, you’re getting fooled by his pretty face again. This is what got you in this whole mess in the first place. I already guessed that you’d never give my student a hard time, so I punished him on your behalf. And this is the thanks I get?”

“I never asked for that! If you ever punish Kurapika again, or cause him _any_ sort of pain, I swear to God, I —”

Izunavi cuts him off. “What? What are you going to do to me? Are you going to punch me with your obnoxiously flashy ability that I can see coming from a mile away?”

“Who needs a portal to punch you?! I can punch you right here, right now!”

Just as Leorio grabs Izunavi’s shirt, a serene song transports them both to a peaceful meadow, far away from the Black Whale, far away from the Succession War. A soft breeze now rustles the blades of grass around them, tousles their hair. Everywhere, the perfume of wildflowers.

Melody is playing her flute as she approaches them. She stares pointedly at Leorio until he releases Izunavi’s shirt. The two men step away from each other.

Once Melody sees this, she puts down her flute and brings them back to the 14th Prince’s quarters. “Izunavi might have said some distasteful things. I don’t deny that. I don’t blame you for getting offended, Leorio. But you should probably draw the line at attacking someone who can’t use his arms to defend himself, right?”

Leorio takes a deep breath. “Yes, you’re right. Absolutely. Thanks for stopping me, Melody. I was about to do something terrible.”

“It wouldn’t have been that terrible,” Izunavi says. “I can take a punch or two. You needed _some_ way to release your frustration. That’s why I kept provoking you.”

Leorio shakes his head. “I don’t want to be the kind of person who has to hurt someone just to feel better. I’ve tried that before and only regretted it. I’m sorry if I was getting violent. I was upset. I was worried you might have worsened Kurapika’s injuries.”

“I’m sorry too.” Just then, something dawns on Izunavi. “Wait a damn minute. Kurapika’s injuries? He told me, explicitly, that his back was totally healed!”

Leorio sighs. “The bones on his back have been mended, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t some residual pain and tenderness there. And don’t even get me started on his lungs. They’re still pretty fucked up.”

Izunavi’s eyes widen as he realizes what he might have done. “That . . . is something Kurapika should have mentioned before I went and sat on him.”

Melody gives voice to Izunavi’s suspicion. “Kurapika wanted you to hurt him, yes. He welcomed your punishment. A small way to assuage his guilt and shame, I suppose.”


	28. Messages to Mizaistom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

_ Message to the Ox: _

_ 26 days remain until the Black Whale’s projected arrival at the Dark Continent. Master Izunavi and the Boar have just left the 14th Prince’s quarters. By the time that you receive this message, I expect that they will be back in the third tier, ready to assist you and the Dog in finally sorting out the conflict with the traitor. _

_ Over here in the first tier, Hisoka’s intimate associate, who is also one of us, has neutralized the guards of the ship who are monitoring the phone lines. This will enable the Hunters assigned to the first tier to communicate freely over the phone. Hisoka’s associate has also bound himself to render numerous other services to help us emerge victorious from the Succession War, and I have promised in return to reimburse him handsomely once the voyage has ended. _

_ This evening, I called the 13th Prince’s quarters. Vergei, captain of 7th Queen Sevanti’s royal guards, answered the phone. Although I steeled myself to manage Vergei’s notoriously abrasive personality, which has already vexed me before, he agreed easily enough to pass the phone to Biscuit, which prompts me to conclude that a substantial shift in military authority has occurred within the 13th Prince’s camp. _

_ I wasted no time in telling Biscuit about my plans to form an alliance with the camps who are as sickened as we are by all this bloodshed and murder. Biscuit assured me that, based on her extensive discussions with Queen Sevanti and with Vergei, neither is particularly invested in the idea of Prince Marayam ascending to the throne. Like the members of the 14th Prince’s camp, those in the 13th Prince’s camp also desire nothing but to survive the war unscathed. Biscuit expressed optimism that the 13th Prince’s camp would agree to the alliance. She said that she would call me back at a later time to update me. _

_ While I would have obviously preferred seeing Prince Marayam and Queen Sevanti with my own eyes and hearing their approval with my own ears, given the technical complications posed by the young prince’s Nen beast, I understand that Biscuit’s assurance will have to be enough in this specific case. I simply need to have faith in her. She is the trusted mentor of two of my closest friends, after all. _

_ You know, even though I am currently unable to transmit this message — or any subsequent messages — to you until my scheduled checkup in the medical ward in a week’s time, the simple act of setting down these words on paper is of immeasurable comfort to me. You are one of my only friends on this ship, and I always wish that you are here to confide in when my thoughts are whirring too rapidly for my brain to handle, which is always the case these days. I do hope that your work in the political ward is going smoothly. I also hope that we can catch up soon, under less turbulent circumstances. _

_ Signed, _

_ The Rat _

_ Message to the Ox: _

_ 24 days left. Biscuit phoned back this morning, with the 13th Prince’s camp conveying its resounding agreement to an alliance among the peace-seeking princes. _

_ This afternoon, I visited the 11th Prince’s quarters with Hanzo. I asked to speak to 11th Prince Fugetsu and 6th Queen Seiko alone, and Hanzo helped me verify that our conversation was not being monitored in any way. _

_ I then proposed the alliance. I emphasized that joining our side would exponentially increase Prince Fugetsu’s and Queen Seiko’s chances of survival. The prince, however, expressed her doubts. While she offered no brilliant alternatives to the current conundrum, she nonetheless appeared resistant to the concept of teamwork. _

_ I was not at all surprised by this response. I have heard from Melody that Prince Fugetsu once attempted to abandon the Succession War with her only preferred teammate, the late 10th Prince Kacho, only for the escape operation to fail miserably. _

_ Equipped with a full understanding of the prince’s reservations, I stood up and started saying my goodbyes. I told the prince and the queen that I wished them the best of luck. We, the delegates of the 14th Prince’s camp, were wounded by their lack of faith in us, but we would manage just fine with our secret weapon. _

_ Of course, the prince and the queen needed to hear all about this so-called secret weapon, and I was only too willing to explain. I revealed that a member of the 14th Prince camp was almost solely responsible for the massacres of the camps of 1st Prince Benjamin, 3rd Prince Zhang Lei, and 6th Prince Tyson. This secret weapon was absurdly determined to eradicate any camp that failed to fall in line with our demands. He was a truly troublesome individual, I lamented to them, one who often defied my explicit commands in favor of satisfying his own unquenchable bloodlust. At this point, I suggested that I might have already said too much. _

_ Terror took over Prince Fugetsu’s and Queen Seiko’s faces. As expected, they stopped me from leaving and practically begged me to permit them to join our alliance. They even consented to my stabbing them with the Judgment Chain. Under pain of death, they swore to fulfill two of my conditions. First, they would do everything in their power to ensure that everyone in the 11th Prince’s camp showed unswerving loyalty to the 14th Prince’s camp for the duration of the voyage. Second, they would reveal to no one that this conversation had ever taken place. _

_ I retracted the Judgment Chain and asked them if they had any useful information to share with me. I reminded them that withholding such information would mean disloyalty to the 14th Prince’s camp and, therefore, death by the Stake of Retribution. Prince Fugetsu was sobbing too hard to answer, but her mother informed me that they had learned that 9th Prince Halkenburg and his Nen beast had been responsible for the periodic rumblings. _

_ I thanked them, then asked Hanzo to stay behind to watch over them on my behalf. I couldn’t miss the silent judgment in Hanzo’s eyes as I was departing. _

_ Hisoka was waiting for me in the hallway outside the 11th Prince’s quarters. His eyes sparkled as he saw me, but I only shook my head as if to say, not today. _

_ I told Hisoka that I had changed my mind about heading to 9th Prince Halkenburg next. From this point onward, we would reverse the originally planned order. Next would be 5th Prince Tubeppa, then 7th Prince Luzurus. We would leave the 9th Prince for last. _

_ Hisoka didn’t care about any of these strategic considerations. On our way back to the 14th Prince’s quarters, he pulled me into the ice room to kiss me. He bit me hard on the neck to mark me with crimson crescents just like his. As he explained, he wanted us to match. _

_ Just as he was about to kiss me again, with his mouth bloodied now, I got on my knees and kissed him in another place. I felt unworthy, all of a sudden, of kissing anyone on the lips, of being kissed. _

_ Signed, _

_ _______ _

_ Message to ______: _

_ 23 days left. 5th Prince Tubeppa accepted the alliance right off the bat, but something about her assent rang false to my ears. _

_ I decided to test the prince using the Dowsing Chain. I asked her how she felt about 9th Prince Halkenburg being the next ruler of the Kakin Empire, because the 14th Prince’s camp had already committed to supporting his bid for the throne. _

_ Prince Tubeppa said that it sounded like a wonderful idea — no one was more suited to being king than her brother Halkenburg. _

_ The Dowsing Chain swung. The prince asked me what that meant.  _

_ I told the prince that my chain had detected the searing passion behind her words. She smiled, pleased that her two-faced lie had seemingly gone unnoticed. _

_ Two can play at this lying game, however, and I usually win. _

_ I left after assuring the prince that I would get back to her soon with details about the alliance and about our moves against 2nd Prince Camilla and 4th Prince Tserriednich. _

_ In the hallway with Hisoka, I updated him about what had occurred. He asked me about 2nd Queen Duazul. I responded that the 2nd Queen was not there — she was most likely residing in the 2nd Prince’s quarters. _

_ Hisoka understood. 5th Prince Tubeppa was his only mission for now. When I instructed him to turn off the lights, he nodded and began communicating via walkie-talkie. We soon heard the ensuing commotion inside the 5th Prince’s quarters — the collective confusion caused by the sudden darkness. I walked away just as Hisoka was kicking down the door. _

_ When Hisoka later returned to my side in the 14th Prince’s quarters, his hands were stained darkly with royal blood. I parted my mouth to implore him to wash his hands, but before I could get out a single word, he grabbed my face and kissed me. _

_ After Hisoka was through with me, I went to wash my face, but the slick remembrance of blood would not abate. I took a shower, I took a bath. Nothing helped. Nothing made my face in the mirror even slightly more recognizable to my exhausted eyes. _

_ Signed — _

_ This is my last message. 21 days left. _

_ You know and I know that I can never send these messages. I may have deluded myself at first, but we’re past that point now, right? _

_ Do you remember the time when you declared your admiration for my ability? Since then I have tried again and again to be useful to you. I wanted you to like me, to consider me your friend and ally. Most of all, I wanted to be a man of your honor and caliber, someone worthy of your company. _

_ But the things that I have done to win this war are far too despicable to ever reveal to you. You would hate me if you knew, and I could never live with myself if that happened. Once I have made this final confession, I will burn these messages and entrust all my secrets to the ashes. _

_ Like the late 5th Prince Tubeppa, 7th Prince Luzurus was not exactly enamored with the idea of his brother Halkenburg ruling the Kakin Empire. I met with Hisoka in the hallway and told him to get the lights once more.  _

_ But Hisoka refused this time. He would no longer be satisfied with a single murder in the dark. He kissed my neck as he tried to persuade me, kissed me right on the crescents that he’d left three days earlier. _

_ What fun was murder when he couldn’t even admire the crimson as it spilled? A mere minute was enough to rob the color of its vibrancy. This was Hisoka’s reasoning. _

_ Too drained to argue with him, I consented. I gave him my blessing to go as crazy as he wanted. _

_ Thrilled by my approval, Hisoka pushed me against the wall and fucked me right there in the hallway. Not that anyone saw. Everyone is either dead now or too afraid to venture out.  _

_ I felt no fear. I felt nothing. Not even as Hisoka was thrusting deep inside me. Not even as he filled me to the brim. Nothing. _

_ As I was zipping my trousers again, ignoring the sloshy sensation inside me, I told Hisoka to bring me back the Hunter called Basho. I needed a replacement for Hanzo’s role as the external defense of the 14th Prince’s quarters. _

_ Soon, I will meet with 9th Prince Halkenburg. I have more than enough to offer him by now. I have secured the loyalty and service of three princes and their camps. I have eliminated the snakes among his siblings. Most importantly, I have Hisoka by my side, this secret weapon that I can deploy as the 9th Prince requires.  _

_ Without Hisoka, I never would have gotten this far. As preposterous as it may seem, I trust no one but this self-declared psychopathic murderer to help me see this war through until the very end. _


	29. Howl, dying animal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Rough sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Back in the medical ward, Leorio pours all his energy into his nursing duties. During his rounds, he fixes a bright smile over his face, even lets loose with boisterous bursts of laughter every now and then. Many of these patients are ailing, suffering — the last thing he wants to do is drag down their moods with his comparatively petty problems.

Cheadle has been looking at him strangely, Leorio has noticed. She’s far too perceptive not to have realized that something is seriously wrong with him. She obviously wants to talk to him about it. She even asks him to accompany her on various tasks that she usually accomplishes on her own.

On these excursions with Cheadle, Leorio projects a cheerful demeanor and keeps up a continuous stream of small talk, anything to discourage her from opening that can of worms. If Cheadle asks him to explain, what will he even say? He fell head over heels in love with a friend who sucked his dick once upon a time. Needless to say, the friend did not feel the same way. The friend was only playing games. What kind of pointless sob story is that?

During his breaks, Leorio allows the smile to slide off from his face. Smoking like a chimney and wallowing in his heartbreak, he holes up in the privacy of the stockroom.

Leorio wishes he could mope in peaceful solitude, but Izunavi won’t let him. Izunavi, who has been admitted into a room in the central hospital, keeps track of Leorio’s schedule and visits the stockroom during his breaks. Whenever Leorio cries, Izunavi scoots closer on the couch and nudges him, as if to reassure him that he’s not alone. Izunavi makes no other attempts to comfort him. He takes no stabs at soothing language. He’s just there.

Izunavi claims that he only visits to inhale secondhand smoke from Leorio’s cigarettes because his injuries prevent him from smoking his own. But Leorio doubts that this is Izunavi’s sole reason. Contrary to what others may expect due to the man’s rough exterior, Izunavi is surprisingly kind.

When Leorio is too exhausted to cry, Izunavi babbles about random things. Izunavi reports that Kakin’s guards have visited the central hospital to interrogate him and Giuliano. As prepped by the Zodiacs, he and Giuliano claimed that they were under the control of a Manipulative ability, and that they remained clueless about the identities of the killers of 6th Prince Tyson and 4th Queen Katrono. Once they broke out of their Manipulative state, Izunavi and Giuliano immediately sought the support of the Hunter Association to back their pleas of innocence. Of course, the Hunter Association stood by these mostly fabricated assertions.

Leorio issues half-hearted grunts at several points of this one-sided conversation, but once Izunavi starts wondering aloud whether Gel is single, whether Gel’s eyelashes flutter faster whenever Izunavi is around . . . Leorio tunes out, lost again in his own self-pitying thoughts.

Leorio is in his silent mode one day when he hears Izunavi mentioning Kurapika’s name, seemingly in the context of a question. Because they have an unspoken agreement not to talk about Kurapika, Leorio glares at Izunavi, but the older man simply repeats his question.

“Are you really not going to see Kurapika?” Izunavi asks. “I know it’s difficult between the two of you right now, but weren’t you the one who asked him to visit the medical ward?”

The realization hits Leorio then. Too preoccupied with his sulking, he has totally forgotten about Kurapika’s scheduled checkup.

Leorio leaps up from the couch. “Where’s Kurapika now?”

Kurapika, sitting shirtless on a cot, is staring into space as Cheadle prods his body. He only jerks back to reality as a breathless Leorio barges into the room.

Leorio’s chest is heaving from his sprint. “Cheadle, it’s fine. I’ll take it from here.”

Cheadle spares him a single glance. “This is only going to last a minute longer. Then an X-ray, perhaps. . . .”

“Why would Kurapika need an X-ray when I’m right here?” Leorio demands. “I _am_ the X-ray! I said it’s fine! I’ll take care of Kurapika now!”

Cheadle sighs. “What do you say, Kurapika? While Leorio’s ability functions in a somewhat similar way, an actual X-ray would be much more thorough.”

Kurapika raises his eyebrows at Leorio, who gives him a terse nod in return. Kurapika faces Cheadle again. “If Leorio says it’s fine, then it’s fine. Thank you for seeing me, Chairman.”

“Not a problem, Kurapika. The Zodiacs need to stick together during these hard times.” With these words, Cheadle leaves the room. She stares seriously at Leorio as she goes.

Once they’re alone, Leorio approaches Kurapika and picks up where Cheadle has left off.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Kurapika tells him.

“Do what? I’m checking on you like I said I would. Am I not allowed?” After a minute of silence, Leorio reveals his real reason for sprinting all the way here. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but I _hate_ the idea of anyone else touching your body, even for medical purposes.”

“You’re right. That does sound ridiculous.”

“Indulge me. I can’t control who gets to touch you when you’re outside the medical ward, but while you’re here, I want to be the only one.” As he continues to palpate Kurapika’s torso, Leorio smiles slightly. “Okay, your lungs are looking good. They’re healing nicely. I should have had more faith in the Holy Chain. No need for a further operation.”

“I wouldn’t have time for an operation anyway,” Kurapika says.

“Know what you do need? A full plate of food. Your weight has dropped again.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. This past week has been nonstop work. Endless moves and countermoves. I may have skipped a few meals. Don’t worry, I’ll eat something once I get back to the 14th Prince’s quarters.”

Leorio examines Kurapika’s eyes. “Throw in a full night of sleep while you’re at it. You look tired as hell.”

Kurapika rubs his dark eyes, self-conscious now.

“You haven’t been abusing Emperor Time again, have you?” Leorio asks.

“I had to use it twice for the Judgment Chain. But other than that, I haven’t activated the scarlet eyes at all.”

“No more fainting spells then? No more migraines?”

“Minor headaches,” Kurapika admits after a pause. “Probably because I lack sleep and sustenance.”

Exasperated, Leorio parks his hands on his hips. “Kurapika! You think I don’t know you by now? When it comes to you, ‘minor headache’ is code for ‘debilitating migraine’!” 

Kurapika massages his temples with both hands. “Migraines then. Yes. You’re right.”

“Stop by the pharmacy for a bottle of aspirin,” Leorio instructs him.

“I’ll do that.”

“And? What else are you going to do when you get back to the first tier?”

“I’ll sleep. I’ll eat. I’ll follow your orders, Dr. Leorio.” There’s a toneless quality to Kurapika’s voice. He speaks as if he’s only trying to appease Leorio.

Leorio furrows his brows with concern. “What’s wrong, Kurapika? Talk to me.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Kurapika isn’t meeting his eyes. Assuming that the checkup is over, he picks up his button-down shirt.

“Wait,” Leorio says.

“You’re not done yet?”

Leorio is indeed done, but he commences stroking Kurapika’s skin again. He never wants to stop. He never wants Kurapika to leave. He wants to see more, wants to touch more . . . he just wants _more_ from Kurapika.

Kurapika has no doubt noticed that Leorio is feeling him up without even bothering to utilize his ability as an excuse, but he doesn’t complain. He watches blankly as Leorio brazenly fondles him.

“Kurapika?”

“What is it, Leorio?”

“Can I still change my mind? Does your offer still stand?”

Kurapika hesitates as he absorbs these questions. “Do you want to have sex with me? Is that what you’re saying?”   


“Yeah. Do you still want to?”

“ _Of course_ I still want to,” Kurapika says. “But this is only going to make it more difficult for you, you know?”

“I know.”

Kurapika cocks his head to the side. “You understand that sex doesn’t carry the same weight for me as it does for other people?”

“I understand. Guess I don’t care.”

“Right here, then?”

In response, Leorio walks over to the door and locks it. They stare at each other steadily as they both shed their clothes.

Leorio gets on top of Kurapika on the cot, clinical and white, and begins kissing Kurapika’s chest all over. Seeming to remember something, Kurapika leans over the edge of the cot to reach for the trousers that he’s just discarded on the floor.

Leorio pauses to observe as Kurapika’s chained fingers root inside his wallet. In Kurapika’s haste, he fumbles — numerous packets burst from the wallet and spill all over the floor.

Kurapika’s eyes widen. “Shit. Sorry.”

Before Leorio can stop him, Kurapika jumps down from the cot to retrieve the packets. While it’s certainly rare to see Kurapika being clumsy at anything, Leorio’s attention is diverted by the condoms now littering the floor. Aren’t there way too many? And so many different types! How did Kurapika manage to fit all of them inside his wallet in the first place?

Leorio tries to sound unfazed. “Wow. You and Hisoka sure like to experiment with different textures and flavors.”

“No, these are all from before. Hisoka and I don’t use any. We both prefer to go without condoms.”

Wait, Kurapika has been having unprotected sex with Hisoka all this time?! Why?! Didn’t Kurapika himself mention that Hisoka has no qualms about fucking anyone or anything? Kurapika is being way too careless about this!

Leorio is extremely pissed. “Leave them. Get back here now.”

But Kurapika has already collected all the condoms and has stuffed his wallet back into his trousers pocket. He swiftly returns to his position underneath Leorio and hands him a condom. Even amidst the confusing flurry of foil packets, Kurapika has managed to single out the perfect size for him. 

Leorio wastes no time in putting on the condom. Still in a huffy mood, he spreads Kurapika’s legs and positions the head of his cock against Kurapika’s entrance. “Need me to finger you first? Last time, you told me to fuck you without preparation.”

Kurapika is just as impatient as he is, if not more. “Yes, I don’t need preparation. I’ll be fine. Come on, Leorio. Fuck me.” As Leorio glares down at him, Kurapika amends his statement. “Please fuck me. Please.”

“This really isn’t a big deal to you, huh? You do it with Hisoka every damn day, after all.” Leorio stares at the bite mark on Kurapika’s neck. “When was the last time you two had sex?”

“About half an hour ago, I suppose?”

With a roar of frustration, Leorio snaps his hips forward, shoving his entire length into Kurapika in one go. Leorio’s head fogs up instantly. The pleasure of being buried deep inside Kurapika is so intense that he cries out. His eyes flutter shut, and his next thrusts are just as rough, bordering on brutal. He desires nothing but to repeat that brain-melting sensation — every inch of his cock being squeezed thoroughly by Kurapika’s snug warmth.

Leorio is barely aware that he’s moaning nonstop, moaning so loudly that he’s practically shouting. It vaguely occurs to him that he probably shouldn’t be this loud — the walls aren’t too thick in the central hospital — but he simply can’t contain this feeling. This incredible, indescribable feeling of finally, _finally_ being inside the person that he loves.

Leorio eventually realizes that Kurapika is completely silent beneath him. Fear pierces his heart. Has Leorio hurt his love in his reckless fit of anger? Has he broken Kurapika now?

When Leorio opens his eyes to check on him, he’s shocked. Kurapika’s eyes are smoldering with such a brilliant scarlet that the black contacts can’t conceal their vibrancy. It doesn’t even seem like Kurapika is wearing contacts at all.

Leorio forces himself to halt his thrusting. “Kurapika, your eyes are red. You shouldn’t do that.”

Kurapika hisses once he realizes that Leorio is right. The red hue fades right away. “Sorry, I had no idea.” He looks suddenly disturbed. “Shit, don’t tell me I’ve been doing that recently . . .?”

“Your scarlet eyes are beautiful to look at, but I can’t have you shrinking your lifespan for me.”

Kurapika traces Leorio’s clavicles, reverently, with his chained fingers. “You’re the one who’s beautiful, Leorio. So fucking beautiful that you’re unreal. I wish I could stare at your face forever.”

With a single, practiced maneuver, Kurapika flips them over on the cot, so that he’s now on top. “Know why I commanded Hisoka to fuck me right before I came to see you, Leorio? I can _never_ control myself around you. Something like this was bound to happen. This is a bad idea. We both know it, right? Yet look at us now.”

Kurapika starts rocking over Leorio’s hips. This vision of Kurapika sitting astride him, sighing and playing with his own nipples as he goes, his stiff cock bouncing bright red in its stimulation . . . everything about this scene is so unbearably erotic that Leorio has to shut his eyes again. He’s in danger of coming prematurely, otherwise.

In the ensuing darkness, unbidden memories come flooding back. Kurapika’s voice from a week ago echoes around Leorio’s skull.

_ You’re too weak, Leorio. Too soft. That ability of yours . . . does it serve any substantial purpose outside the limited confines of a hospital? I need someone strong and ruthless by my side to have even the slightest chance of winning this war. Will you eliminate my enemies for me, the way Hisoka would? _

Kurapika’s chained hand wanders over Leorio’s mouth to muffle his moaning.

_ Can you go for hours like Hisoka can? Can you bruise me and wound me whenever I ask you to? Hisoka can hurt me and be hurt by me in a way that satisfies us both. Hisoka can make me come, over and over again, using just his mouth. Remember how I went soft while you were blowing me, Leorio? Remember that? _

Kurapika is riding Leorio with an almost frightening forcefulness. Leorio’s penis will probably be sore in the aftermath, but he doesn’t tell Kurapika to slow down.

_ You put me on a pedestal, Leorio. That’s not what I want. Hisoka and I . . . we treat each other as partners and as equals. I trust Hisoka more than I ever trusted you. I feel safe and desirable in his company, whereas your unwarranted and insurmountable expectations of me always drain me. Is it any wonder why I’m choosing Hisoka over you?  _

The rocking movement over Leorio’s hips has suddenly ceased. 

Kurapika is leaning down now, pressing his lips to the corners of Leorio’s screwed-shut eyes, where salty tears are spilling freely. While Kurapika is kissing him, Leorio holds him close to his chest.

“I love you so much,” Leorio whispers. “I love you more than anything. Why can’t you just choose me? Why can’t I keep you here forever?”

Kurapika says nothing. He continues quietly kissing the tears streaming down Leorio’s face.

While still embracing Kurapika, Leorio sits up. He briefly runs his fingertips over Kurapika’s abdomen, utilizing his ability to verify the angle of his dick in this position. He then readjusts Kurapika’s body over his lap. Kurapika stifles a gasp as this minute modification massages a sensitive spot inside him.

“Ready, Kurapika?”

When Kurapika nods, Leorio begins to buck his hips upward, pounding powerfully and relentlessly against Kurapika’s prostate. 

Kurapika throws his arms around Leorio’s waist and smothers his feral groaning against Leorio’s broad chest. The sound reverberates all over Leorio’s bones. Leorio orders himself to concentrate on the mechanical movements of his hips, on the scrabbling sensations of fingers against his back — anything to prevent him from coming before Kurapika does.

As Kurapika approaches his peak, he starts chanting Leorio’s name, again and again. Leorio listens, captivated, as his own name, for which he’s felt only ambivalence, flows like music from Kurapika’s tongue.

Kurapika’s hold around Leorio’s waist tightens, and he chokes out Leorio’s name a final time as he comes to his climax. Leorio feels Kurapika’s warm essence erupting against his abdomen.

Kurapika takes a few seconds to recollect himself, then apologizes profusely. “I’ve made you dirty. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Leorio.”

“It’s not dirty, Kurapika. It’s a part of you, and I love every part of you.”

Kurapika wraps his arms around Leorio’s neck. His dark eyes are uncharacteristically soft as they gaze into Leorio’s brown eyes. “Don’t you want to come inside me, Leorio? Do it. Don’t hold back.”

So Leorio doesn’t hold back. He hugs Kurapika and slams upward. He’s been holding off for so long that he only manages a few more thrusts before he reaches his own release. He comes with a howl, not unlike that of a dying animal.

Breathing hard, Leorio kisses Kurapika’s blond hair. Though it’s damp with sweat, the scent of Kurapika’s shampoo is as sweet and as addictive as ever. 

“I’ll always love you, okay?” Leorio murmurs. “No matter what. So if you ever change your mind. . . .”

At this point, Kurapika pulls free from Leorio’s arms and clambers off his lap. His expression, which was vulnerable earlier, is detached once again. He faces away from Leorio as he wipes himself dry then dons his clothes.

Fully dressed now, Kurapika meets Leorio’s eyes. “Don’t wait for me to change my mind. Because even if I did, I’d never tell you. I can promise you that.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little cruel? Not just to me, but to yourself?”

Kurapika shakes his head. “It’s the most decent thing I can do. Leorio, you deserve the world. No, the whole goddamn universe. I’d never condemn you to a life with only me, this broken and despicable friend of yours.”


	30. Joker slicing hearts in half

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Hisoka has been awake for hours now, but he still lies motionless in bed. He’s soaking in the rumbling warmth of another body slumbering against his back. It’s not a feeling that he’s known for long, but it’s a feeling that he’s liking more and more every time it happens.

To amuse himself amidst this momentary stasis, he begins to toss out sharpened cards, notching the bedroom wall with minuscule holes. Going through a full deck in this manner, he finally sends out the Joker to join the others, observing as its sheer force slices the Two of Hearts in half.

At this point, he glances down at the arm thrown loosely over his waist. The watch around the slender wrist tells Hisoka that it’s close to the agreed time.

“Wakey-wakey, golden boy,” Hisoka croons. “Time to get up, get out, and give them all a taste of hell.”

Kurapika’s arms twitch, then wrap tightly around Hisoka’s torso. He grumbles against Hisoka’s back. “Mmph. Don’t want to go anywhere. Want to stay right here.”

“You _want_ to sleep? You _want_ to stay in bed?” Hisoka pretends to gasp in horror. “Who are you, and what have you done to my partner?”

“I don’t think I had any nightmares. Did I call for Pairo in my sleep again?”

“You didn’t call for Pairo, no.” In truth, Kurapika was repeatedly calling someone else’s name, but Hisoka doesn’t need to bring that up, does he?

Hiking up Hisoka’s shirt, Kurapika nuzzles the pale skin of his back. His right hand wanders down to caress Hisoka’s crotch over his pants. “Mm. You feel amazing. Maybe that’s why I slept so soundly.”

“Use me as your pillow any time. We need you to be as strong and as alert as possible to win this war, right?”

Kurapika’s fingers have just crept underneath the elastic to close around Hisoka’s cock, but once Hisoka brings the war back into his consciousness, he retracts his right hand and sits up. “We’d better go.”

They both rise from the bed, but before they can leave the room, Kurapika pauses to consider the cards jutting out from the wall.

Kurapika’s tone is conversational. “Quite the threatening tableau you’ve got here.”

Hisoka allows the Shu enveloping the cards to diffuse, and the cards curve downward at once with the pull of gravity. “Leave it. This will warn everyone to stay away from the bedroom. I want to fuck you in peace when we’re done with war business for the day.”

As Kurapika speaks with 9th Prince Halkenburg, Hisoka silently watches the Nen beast perched on the prince’s shoulder. A hulking ape-like monstrosity, it glowers and flexes its pointy claws in Hisoka’s direction. When Hisoka only smirks in response, the beast tosses back its curved horns and roars, its feathers ruffling in a grand display of aggression.

Kurapika’s face doesn’t flicker in the slightest. Neither does Prince Halkenburg’s face, but as Hisoka has confirmed numerous times, the princes cannot see their own Nen beasts. Hisoka has already exploited this common weakness against them.

Hisoka is distracted from these musings as Kurapika kneels next to him. Following his lead, Hisoka also gets to his knees, but he maintains the ironic smile over his face.

Resting his chained hand over his heart, Kurapika confesses to the murders of 1st Prince Benjamin, 3rd Prince Zhang Lei, 5th Prince Tubeppa, 6th Prince Tyson, and 7th Prince Luzurus. Upon this revelation, the guards standing behind Prince Halkenburg murmur amongst themselves.

While Prince Halkenburg seems to keep a stiff upper lip, the grief and agony are apparent in his eyes. “How about the three other deceased princes? Did the two of you murder them as well?”

“Hisoka and I weren’t responsible for the deaths of the three others,” Kurapika tells him. “However, we’ve since managed to gather intelligence on the circumstances surrounding their demise. 12th Prince Momoze was strangled by Tuffdy, a spy assigned by 5th Queen Swinko-swinko, while 8th Prince Salé-salé was killed by Yushohi, a spy assigned by the 1st Prince. As for 10th Prince Kacho, she died during an attempt to escape from the Black Whale. The 10th Prince’s Nen beast then manifested as her own likeness, and to this day stands sentinel over her twin sister in the 11th Prince’s quarters.”

“Even presuming that you are telling the truth about those three siblings, do you fully grasp the extent of the crimes to which you are confessing? Five of my siblings, slain by your hands. . . .”

Kurapika presses his forehead to the floor. Hisoka notices that his partner trembles as he exposes his back to the members of the 9th Prince’s camp. When Hisoka follows suit and lowers his head, he gently rubs Kurapika’s leg with his own.

“Hisoka and I are willing to accept any and all culpability for these crimes,” Kurapika says, his eyes trained on the floor beneath him. “But please understand that we only risked the very real possibility of capital punishment as a means to demonstrate our unyielding loyalty to the 9th Prince. We only hoped to clear the path for the 9th Prince to ascend with all due haste to the throne.”

“If you are here as an agent of the 14th Prince’s camp, does this mean that Queen Oito has conceded her daughter’s birthright to the throne?”

Kurapika raises his head now. “The 9th Prince is perceptive indeed. Yes, 14th Prince Woble, through 8th Queen Oito; 13th Prince Marayam, through 7th Queen Sevanti; 11th Prince Fugetsu; and 6th Queen Seiko have all committed to support the 9th Prince’s bid to prevail in this succession contest. Hisoka and I have gone out of our way to form this alliance among the younger surviving princes on the 9th Prince’s behalf. The camps of these three princes will gladly fortify the offensive and defensive capabilities of the 9th Prince’s camp as the 9th Prince directs. Please take the time to connect with these three camps over the phone if the sincerity of my words remains doubtful.”

“Stand up,” Prince Halkenburg commands. “Look into my eyes.”

Kurapika does so. Hisoka gets up as well, but Prince Halkenburg is only looking at Kurapika. The prince raises his arm, his outstretched fingers practically grazing Kurapika’s forehead. At this precise moment, the combined aura surrounding the prince and his guards swells to an alarming degree.

For the first time since they stepped inside the 9th Prince’s quarters, Hisoka feels a pang of uncertainty, but beside him, Kurapika doesn’t falter one bit. As Prince Halkenburg stares deeply into the brown eyes, Kurapika gazes back steadily.

“Good, you are being honest with me.” Once Prince Halkenburg lowers his arm, the collective aura of the 9th Prince’s camp simmers down. “I am quite touched by your show of loyalty, courage, and initiative. But most importantly, this regret that you feel, which you have attempted but failed to conceal behind your calculated confession to these heinous crimes . . . I have sensed it dripping from your every word. You ache with the same disgust that plagues me whenever I am compelled by circumstance to control or hurt anyone in order to achieve my own lofty goals. We are the same, you and I.” The prince bows his head by just a fraction. “Very well. I will trust you. I will join the alliance of the younger princes, with you acting as the emissary of their camps.”

Kurapika nods in return. “The 9th Prince honors me. Please feel free to course all communications with the younger princes through me.”

“I have had enough of this ‘9th Prince’ business. Address me as Prince Halkenburg from this point onward. Such stiff formality does not suit our new status as allies.”

Kurapika now asks Prince Halkenburg if he’s received any news from 4th Prince Tserriednich. “I’ve heard that you maintain a close relationship with the 4th Prince despite your strained relations with the rest of the royal family?”

“You have heard correctly. Tserriednich calls me regularly. He has kept me apprised of his tussles with the elder princes. As you may know, from the very beginning, my five eldest siblings saw themselves as the only plausible contenders for the throne. Now that Benjamin, Zhang Lei, and Tubeppa have passed away, Tserriednich and Camilla have been engaging in increasingly frequent confrontations. Each of them suspects the other of eliminating Benjamin’s and Zhang Lei’s camps, and of directing the assassination of Tubeppa.”

“Prince Halkenburg, if the 4th Prince is openly informing you of such delicate details even at this juncture of the war, could it be that the two of you have also formed an alliance?”

Prince Halkenburg shakes his head. “Tserriednich offered to ally with me, that much is true. I did, however, decline his offer. As fond as I am of my brother, I have been consistently careful to keep him at a certain distance. I know him well enough to understand that I can never trust him completely. While he did promise me immunity if the two of us happened to be the last princes standing, I am not sure that I can trust that promise either.”

“Might I extend a humble suggestion, then? If we take advantage of the current standoff between the 4th Prince and the 2nd Prince, we may potentially blindside and overpower them both. This way, Prince Halkenburg will emerge as the victor of the Succession War and as the new king of the Kakin Empire.”

Prince Halkenburg furrows his brows. “From a strategic standpoint, I can comprehend the wisdom of your advice. But from an ethical standpoint, the idea of _blindsiding_ anyone is morally abhorrent to me.”

“I sincerely apologize. I will refrain from giving any unsolicited advice from now on.”

Prince Halkenburg waves his hand, as if dismissing this apology. “Not at all. I may not listen to every piece of advice that I receive, but I always endeavor to hear from as many angles and perspectives as possible. How else will I ensure that the course of action I have chosen is the wisest of all infinite potentialities? For this reason, never hesitate to share your insights with me. Your evident affinity for tactical acuity will be most invaluable.”

“As you wish, Prince Halkenburg.”

“For now, we shall wait,” Prince Halkenburg says, his voice firm. “We shall permit my two elder siblings to resolve this conflict between them. Only then shall I step in and assert myself as a serious contender.”

Upon their return to the 14th Prince’s quarters, Basho bows deeply and bellows, “Welcome back, Boss!”

As Basho attempts to peel off Kurapika’s blazer for him, Kurapika flinches and backs away. With his brown eyes wide, Kurapika stretches out his right arm behind him, instinctively reaching for something.

Recognizing what Kurapika needs from him, Hisoka steps forward and presses his chest to Kurapika’s back. Kurapika relaxes instantly against Hisoka’s body, and his quickened breathing gradually slows down again.

Once Kurapika composes himself, he speaks to Basho with a reproachful tone. “Basho, you don’t have to do these sorts of obtrusive things. We’re not the Nostrade family right now. We’re just guards, just . . . friends.”

Basho’s smile is wistful. “I know. But this kind of stuff’s comforting, ain’t it? Pretending everything’s the same as before. Just another boring day on the job. How’d today’s mission go, anyhow?”

“It went about as smoothly as I could have hoped.”

“Sweet!” Basho booms. “Boss has closed a big deal again! He’s bringing home the bacon, showing the rest of us how it’s done!”

As Basho beams and rumples Kurapika’s blond hair with his broad hand, Hisoka wraps his arms around Kurapika’s waist and hauls him off with a vague excuse about formulating the next phase of war strategy.

Alone in the employees’ bedroom once more, the spectacle of cards still decorating the wall, Hisoka falls over the bed while still hugging Kurapika to his chest. “What’s up with Mr. Pompadour? I thought he was going to start licking your shoes or something.”

“He’s still in his mafioso mindset, I guess,” Kurapika replies.

“Is that what you do in the mafia? Suck each other’s dicks after long days of swinging around guns and blackmailing people?”

“That’s not generally the case. But Basho and I . . . we fall under the exception, I suppose?”

Eyes glinting with amusement, Hisoka spins Kurapika’s body around to face him. “Tell me everything. Each and every sordid detail of this affair.”

Kurapika shrugs. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Locking his arms around Kurapika’s waist again, Hisoka tries to torment him into submission by nipping and sucking at his ears. Kurapika thrashes uselessly against Hisoka’s chest until his own face gleams a glorious shade of magenta.

“Okay, okay!” Kurapika is breathless by this point. “I’ll talk! Just stop! Stop!”

Once Hisoka lets him go, Kurapika pounces over Hisoka’s body and pins his wrists down on the mattress.

Kurapika squeezes both wrists tightly, only stopping when Hisoka winces. “Don’t you _ever_ dare do that again.”

Kurapika then dives down and kisses Hisoka hard. His mouth moves urgently, parting Hisoka’s lips to suck on his tongue.

Hisoka kisses him back for a few minutes, swept up by the spell of his lover’s always infectious appetite, before he eventually remembers his original agenda. He then twists his head and swipes at Kurapika’s still blushing earlobe with his long tongue.

Kurapika jerks away, glaring. “What did I just say?!”

“You’re the one who’s distracting me,” Hisoka accuses. “Think I can’t see through your dirty tricks? You said you’d talk, so talk.”

“What do you want me to tell you? It’s a boring story where nothing happens. I just didn’t want to bore you to sleep. We can’t fuck if you’re asleep, now can we?”

“Quit dancing around the subject and tell me already.”

Kurapika sighs. “I was pent up one day, okay? You know what I’m like when that happens. Any semblance of intelligence just flies out the window. Basho and I happened to be alone in the office back then, so I blew him and made him fuck me over my desk.”

“A one-night stand then?” Hisoka asks.

“I honestly intended for it to be a one-time occurrence, but he’s _massive_ down there, so it was difficult to control myself. I couldn’t stop myself from propositioning him for a repeat session. Or several.”

“Ah, so that’s why you asked me to bring him to the 14th Prince’s quarters. You were craving more repeat sessions with Mr. Pompadour and his massive disco stick.”

Kurapika rolls his eyes. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? If I have both you and Basho railing me with your monster cocks on a regular basis, I’ll be bleeding too badly to even sit down, let alone wage a war. He’s here to replace Hanzo’s role, and that’s it.”

Hisoka snickers. “Know what we should do? We should pretend to be boyfriends. That should deter him from sniffing around you like a dog waiting to be petted.”

Kurapika stares quietly at Hisoka until his snickering dies down.

“I’m only kidding,” Hisoka says, feeling awkward now. “No need to get worked up over a harmless joke.”

Kurapika releases Hisoka’s wrists and settles over his hips. His expression is supremely serious. “Yes, why not? Boyfriends. I like the sound of that.”

“Did you even hear what I just said . . .?”

“But I don’t want to pretend. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this officially. We’ll be a 100% real couple. Hisoka, you’re my boyfriend now. Got that?”

Hisoka is momentarily shocked into silence by Kurapika’s bluntness. He then bursts out laughing and doesn't stop for a long time.

Even when Hisoka regains his coherence, he wheezes out his words. “I’m your boyfriend now, huh? What a riot!”

“What, you’ve got a problem with that? We kiss and we fuck and we share all this alone time together. We like each other, right? What else would you call this thing between us?”

Smiling, Hisoka clutches Kurapika by the waist and drags him over the length of his own body, only stopping when Kurapika is positioned over his shoulders. “Know what this means? You can’t fuck anyone else from now on. I’m glad you finally had your shot with Leorio in the medical ward, because that was the last time. As your 100% real boyfriend, I’m the only one who gets to see you naked. I’m the only one who can do this to you.”

Hisoka tilts his head upward to kiss Kurapika over his trousers, and Kurapika pushes his hips forward to meet Hisoka’s eager lips.

“Let me throw that back to you, Hisoka,” Kurapika says. “You can’t keep messing around with other people. You think I don’t know about your midnight trysts with Illumi?”

Hisoka’s chuckling sends out pleasant vibrations, and Kurapika feels himself stir with desire.

“That’s not what we’ve been doing, actually,” Hisoka tells him. “But I would’ve fucked Illumi by now if I’d only realized that he was bothering you. You’re adorable when you’re jealous like this.”

Kurapika unzips and shoves his length into Hisoka’s expectant mouth, letting Hisoka coat his every inch with lubrication. He then dismounts and impatiently flips Hisoka over to his stomach.

Kurapika yanks off Hisoka’s pants and rubs his dick between the muscular cheeks, teasing Hisoka until he begs for Kurapika to give it to him. Kurapika then plunges inside Hisoka and pounds into him without reservation.

Hisoka moans against the pillow. “Wow. _Wow._ What a beast, my boyfriend.”

“You like this? You like it when your boyfriend wrecks you like this?”

“I love this,” Hisoka sighs. “I fucking love it like this.”

“Will Illumi ever fuck you like this, huh?”

“Will Leorio ever let you fuck him in the ass like this?”

There’s a startled groan, then Kurapika suddenly empties his load into Hisoka.

An uncomfortable silence descends between them.

Kurapika finally breaks it. “It’s probably best if you don’t mention his name while we’re in bed.”

“You’re the one who started this game.” Hisoka can’t help himself now. He giggles uncontrollably against the pillow, while faintly wondering why Kurapika still doesn’t pull out his flaccid penis.

Hisoka’s giggling is cut abruptly short when Kurapika harshly smacks Hisoka’s ass with his right hand, with no warning whatsoever.

In the wake of that stinging impact, Hisoka’s dick springs to attention. He braces himself as Kurapika continues spanking him. Before very long, Kurapika’s cock is rock-hard inside Hisoka again. 

And maybe it’s this shift between them — this strange new definition slapped over what they’ve previously left deliberately undefined — but the sex that follows is the best they’ve ever had thus far, whether together or apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m taking a break from writing this story for at least the month of November. In the meantime, please enjoy these new additions to the playlist, which was mentioned in the notes of Chapter 26. 
> 
> If circumstances permit, I’ll update again by December. Take care of yourselves! 
> 
> 1\. [The Ghost of You — My Chemical Romance](https://youtu.be/uCUpvTMis-Y)  
> 2\. [Paresthesia — Wild Ones](https://youtu.be/nx-GkwDAH4c)  
> 3\. [Pretend — MACROSS 82-99 feat. Samsi](https://youtu.be/O-1HbyT6GOE)  
> 4\. [TI-83 — CASTLEBEAT](https://youtu.be/gNpYFmDhY-s)  
> 5\. [Baby Baby — Sports](https://youtu.be/pVGYWRP2460)  
> 6\. [Like Letter — BP Valenzuela](https://youtu.be/GYjxyi4-7QY)  
> 7\. [K. — Cigarettes After Sex](https://youtu.be/L4sbDxR22z4)  
> 8\. [Copper Kiss — Sälen](https://youtu.be/KFBW1n-PAkI)  
> 9\. [Where Evil Grows — The Poppy Family feat. Terry Jacks, Susan Jacks](https://youtu.be/mgkzFt8Q_k4)  
> 10\. [Atypical — BONNIE X CLYDE](https://youtu.be/TYMS8nne9Rs)
> 
> Thanks to [arcaladiwoompa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcaladiwoompa/pseuds/arcaladiwoompa) for suggesting that last song!
> 
> You can also listen to the full playlist on Spotify: [echoes of home [leohisopika mix]](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/77w2QpgJuqixTv7Wih7BMn?si=jxNlJRv6S0K9Pqen9NhjDA)


	31. Black curtains, black blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Violent content. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.
> 
> Special thanks to Caasi, without whose friendship, support, and razor-sharp insight I might not have summoned the energy to continue this story.

Kurapika is tugging on his trousers, a question about his partner’s next arrangement to meet Illumi halfway out his mouth, but Hisoka isn’t listening now. Hisoka is barging from the employees’ bedroom with an unbridled excitement that he usually reserves for murder missions.

“Guess what!” Hisoka, naked from the waist up, blurts out to the occupants of the living room.

When neither Bill nor Basho can bring themselves to respond to Hisoka’s enthusiasm with anything but mute suspicion, Melody is the one who speaks up. “What is it, Hisoka?”

Before Hisoka can reply, he’s jerked down to much a lower level as someone from behind yanks him by the ear. 

It’s Kurapika — the buttons of his shirt all misaligned in his hurry to catch up. “Hisoka! What did I tell you about appearing shirtless in front of royalty?! You’re a disgrace!” Even though the queen only giggles and claims to take zero offense to Hisoka’s partial nakedness, Kurapika is all earnest apologies. “Forgive him for this indiscretion, Queen Oito. I’m afraid that Hisoka hasn’t had many opportunities to rub elbows with persons of your rank and affluence, at least not in a civilized context. . . .”

Then she and Hisoka may very well come from similar backgrounds, the queen muses, matchless in her magnanimity. Pray, what is the good news that Hisoka is yearning to share?

When Kurapika releases Hisoka’s ear, Hisoka is still beaming, undeterred by his partner’s all too familiar penchant for violence. “Can I tell them our secret?” he murmurs, his eyes sparkling as they take in Kurapika’s rumpled hair and altogether ruffled exterior.

“Tell them whatever you want, but cover yourself up first. Remember who owns that now.” Seconds pass as Kurapika sears Hisoka to the spot with brown eyes bordering on scarlet. Hisoka can sense himself reflexively leaning in, when Kurapika’s chained hand suddenly springs out and whips cloth against Hisoka’s bare chest.

It’s Hisoka’s shirt. Seems like Kurapika had the presence of mind to retrieve it from the floor before bolting from the bedroom. The shirt is crumpled still — Kurapika balled up the cloth in his fist as he screwed Hisoka into the mattress. That was before he peeled off the shirt to suck on Hisoka’s skin, raising rosebuds all over that pale expanse.

Come to think of it, these hickeys may be why Kurapika is so set on getting Hisoka to cover up. Hisoka tries to shoot his partner a sneaky smile, but Kurapika has sidled to the far side of the room in an attempt to surreptitiously rearrange his own haphazard buttoning situation.

Hisoka dons his shirt before he faces the others again. “Romance is in the air,” he intones, voice melodic. “After weeks of dancing around his irrepressible attraction to my statuesque figure and skull-crushing strength, Kurapika has officially asked me to enter into an exclusive sexual relationship with him, and I’ve graciously deigned to accept. Henceforth, you may refer to Kurapika as Mrs. Morow, and refer to me as —”

“Can you _not_ be a clown for even five seconds?” Kurapika interrupts with a groan, then turns to the rest to clarify. “Hisoka and I are boyfriends now. That’s what this joker’s trying to say. In an ideal situation, we wouldn’t feel the need to publicize such a private matter between us, but as it stands, we’re sick of stealing away on dates and having to justify our absence afterward. Rest assured that we’re more determined than ever to secure the survival of the 14th Prince. On that front, absolutely nothing has changed.”

In the wake of this explanation, silence permeates the 14th Prince’s quarters. Bill and Basho gape at each other, the latter marginally more stricken than the former, while Melody looks with concern at Queen Oito. The queen’s lips are tightly set, and she blinks rapidly as she hands over Prince Woble to Shimano beside her. She excuses herself then departs for the solitude of her bedroom.

Kurapika sighs. “I should probably speak with her.”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” Melody says quietly.

On his way to the queen’s bedroom, Kurapika stops to ask Hisoka a question. “You’re heading out to meet your best friend, I presume?”

“That’s the plan. I’ll let him know that my lower half is officially closed for business, don’t worry.”

“Mention the Kakin mafia families to him,” Kurapika instructs. “See whether his manipulative prowess can influence his companions to deal with those tiresome factions on our behalf. That should distract the critters for a while, and eliminate a plethora of unpredictable variables to boot. We can’t risk allowing extraneous factors to get in our way later.”

“Sounds fun,” Hisoka croons. “Are you certain I can’t take care of the Kakin mafia myself? I’d be happy to. You know I’d do anything for my boyfriend.”

“I need you here. I have bigger things in store for you. Come back to me by midnight.”

In full view of everyone in the living room, Hisoka leans in to kiss him. He expects Kurapika to pull away, to wipe his mouth. Instead, Kurapika kisses him back with his usual greedy fervor. 

Hisoka eventually has to unhook Kurapika’s nails from his nape so that they can both get back to business. Hisoka is rewarded with another impatient flicker of scarlet for his trouble. While he’s no longer working overtime to trigger that coveted color, he still shivers in pleasure whenever he’s blessed with a glimpse.

“You’ll show me all the _big_ things you have in store for me tonight, won’t you?” Hisoka asks.

“You know it.”

Hisoka pulls him in for a brief hug then pushes him off toward the queen’s bedroom. Hisoka waggles his eyebrows at Bill, Basho, and Melody — relishing the disgust, outrage, and misery laid bare on their faces — before heading for the exit.

“Let me get this straight. You’ve had ample opportunity by now to rush the 14th Prince’s quarters and overpower Kurapika and me with your numbers. That’s not the Phantom Troupe’s endgame then, right?”

From across the table, Hisoka leans forward to study the tarry pools of his so-called best friend’s eyes, but no solution to the myriad mysteries surrounding him appears to be forthcoming.

“You say you want to get things straight, but is anything ever straight with you, Hisoka?” Illumi says lightly.

“Perhaps you should leave the fruity jokes to me, unless you want little Kalluto here to get the wrong idea. He may presume that my rainbow-hued flamboyance is rubbing off on his eldest brother.”

“Pretend I’m not here,” Kalluto pipes up from the corner of the cabin, where he’s attacking a sheet of paper with an unwieldy pair of scissors. “Just warn me before you start sucking each other’s faces so that I can make my escape.”

Hisoka turns back to Illumi. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to tell you what I think went down, and you’re going to listen and entertain me with your wonderfully emotionless face.”

Illumi stares at him, expectant.

“Here’s what happened,” Hisoka begins. “The Spiders concocted the plan to extend the Succession War and to ensure that the entire Kakin contingent rides the Black Whale all the way to the Dark Continent. Their motives for doing so are irrelevant for my and my partner’s purposes, but understanding Chrollo as I do, he most likely desires a full cast of characters to participate in his next requiem. Given that he’s mourning two deaths at present, we can expect at least twice the bombast, as compared with his last performance in Yorknew City for the late Number 11.”

Hisoka pauses to shift on his chair. His backside is still stinging, sore from his lover’s onslaught earlier.

Hisoka resumes talking. “You were a godsend to the Troupe. They needed a new Manipulator to replace the one I’d strung like a broken puppet, and there you were, ready to worm your way into their ranks. You Manipulated Giuliano of the 6th Prince’s camp and made him spill the Hunter Association’s secrets to the king of Kakin. And how did you discover their secrets? You were obviously listening in on the meetings of those foolish Zodiacs. With the help of little Kalluto here, I’m guessing.” Hisoka’s eyes wander over to the child in question.

“No comment,” Kalluto mutters, not glancing up from his new paper doll, which is shaped suspiciously like a jester with pointy boots.

“No comment is a comment, Kalluto,” Illumi deadpans. “Keep telling me your theory, Hisoka. I’m meant to be entertaining you, but I do believe that the reverse is happening here.”

“While spying on one of the Zodiac Twelve’s political meetings,” Hisoka continues, “you heard about the plan for Kurapika and me to capture the Hunter traitor in the 6th Prince’s quarters. The Spiders set a trap for us then, with your generous assistance. You Manipulated the members of the 6th Prince’s camp by commanding them to kill any intruders. As for the traitor himself, he was instructed to commit suicide if either Kurapika or I came into contact with him. Of course, I swiftly prevented that by extracting your telltale needles.” Hisoka unearths one of the needles from his pocket and twirls it lazily around his long fingers. “So? Am I right?”

“I’m amazed that you came up with a story so painstakingly detailed,” Illumi answers.

“I can’t take all the credit. My boyfriend figured out most of it.”

“Boyfriend,” Illumi repeats. “No, I’m not even going to ask.”

“Kurapika is cute as a button, and he fucks like a dream.” Hisoka sighs with an expression of complete contentment. “Why, are you jealous?”   


“Jealous? If I even had a heart, all I’d feel is pity for the poor soul unlucky enough to wind up in bed with you.”

“Hey, are you two going to keep talking about that icky stuff?” Kalluto butts in, crumpling his latest paper doll in his clenched fingers. “Should I leave the room now?”

“No need,” Illumi tells his youngest brother. “Hisoka is returning to the first tier soon.”

“Just one thing, Illumi,” Hisoka implores. “Tell me one thing, then I’ll quit subjecting you and Kalluto to this torture.”

“Torture,” Illumi echoes. “That’s a good word for it. Don’t be mistaken — death is the Troupe’s endgame. However, they won’t let the two of you go until they back you into a corner and break you down into useless husks of your former selves. So you and your boyfriend, you better watch your backs.”

When Hisoka returns to the 14th Prince’s quarters before midnight, his boyfriend is still conferring with Queen Oito in her bedroom. Hisoka is just about to knock on the door when Kurapika emerges, looking pensive.

“You’ve been alone with the queen for hours!” Hisoka says with mock indignance. “We haven’t even been a couple for a single day, and you’re already cheating on me?”

Kurapika’s eyes wander upward to Hisoka’s face. “I learned so many interesting things from her this evening. Most notably, about the Seed. . . .” His voice trails off as he leans his back against the door and rubs his chin contemplatively. 

“The _seed?_ You didn’t nut in the queen, did you? Boyfriends or not, I doubt that I’ll ever be ready to raise a royal stepchild with you.”

Kurapika’s eyes crinkle as he releases one of his near-extinct bursts of genuine laughter. Hisoka watches, an uncommon warmth spreading over his chest at the sight.

Still chuckling, Kurapika bumps his fist against Hisoka’s abdomen. “Stop messing around and collect your cards. We’re going out.”

Hisoka perks up. “Where are we going?”

“We’re having a date. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Might I propose a suggestion then? Before we take our date outside, can we date in the employees’ bedroom first? I want to date you so fucking hard that we break the bed in half.”

Kurapika shakes his head. “Melody’s in there, sleeping. We can’t right now.”

“We can be quiet. We won’t make a single sound.”

“This is Melody we’re talking about. She hears _everything_. Every creak of the bed, every slurping stroke of the tongue. We’ll probably give her nightmares.”

“The bathroom, then?” Hisoka offers. “You always look so sexy when you watch yourself in the mirror as I demolish you from behind.”

Kurapika counters with his own suggestion. “How about this? If you manage to make this a good date, we’ll stop by the ice room on the way back. You can do whatever you want with me then.”

“A thrilling prospect. Okay, I’ll bite. What exactly does a good date entail?”

“We’ll play a game,” Kurapika says. “I’ll send out my chain, and we’ll see what sort of hideous insect I can reel back in. Then you’ll toy with the insect to amuse me.”

“Then I’ll crush out the insect? Will a dead insect amuse you as much as a breathing, squirming one?”

Kurapika shrugs. “This time, the fate of our prey is your sole prerogative. The most important rule is this: if you get even a single drop of the insect’s blood on my skin or clothes, you lose right away. Game over. Got that?”

Hisoka grins. “Got it. This will be an easy victory for me.”

Hisoka knows this insect’s name, but Kurapika has made it a point to never find out. Kurapika may have heard its name a few times before, spoken by his young friends two years ago now, but he’s attempting to repress those memories, the same way that he’s convincing his own brain to perceive the critter as only a critter, and not as it really is.

Writhing. Moaning. A mess of splintered bones and mangled skin.

Hisoka idly snaps off the elastic holding back the insect’s hair, and black curtains billow out over either side of the gaunt face. The insect can no longer make any radical movements, but it manages to shake back its hair in order to direct a dark gaze toward where Kurapika observes from a calculated distance away.

For all its rasp, the critter’s voice is heavy with fury. “You think he doesn’t know about you? He knows _all about you._ We warned him about you. He knows you’re coming for him.”

“Yes, yes. Danchou knows we’re out to get him. Why don’t we make sure he knows that we came for you first?” With the Ace of Clubs, Hisoka cleaves down into the insect’s skin, into the dead center of the tattooed spider with the number 1.

Blood blooms like liquefied iron from the spider torn asunder. Dark, almost black. Black curtains, black eyes, black blood. 

The bile is creeping up Kurapika’s throat again. He chokes back the bitterness to address Hisoka. “Enough amusement for tonight. End this game now.”

Kurapika turns away as his partner deals the killing blow. Once Kurapika senses that the restraints of Chain Jail have slackened, he permits the silver links to diffuse into nothingness.

Hisoka carefully licks his fingers clean before he wraps his arm around Kurapika and squeezes his shoulder. Kurapika tries not to flinch.

Hisoka’s tone is eager. “This was a good date, wasn’t it?”

Kurapika forces his lips to curl up into a smile before he faces Hisoka. “Yes, the very best.”

When Hisoka kisses him, Kurapika closes his eyes — red still ringing his black contacts — and tries to lose himself in it. The darkness does help, somewhat.

“I’m ready for my prize now,” Hisoka purrs against his mouth.


	32. Theory of sustainable expenditure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Izunavi trains Leorio using his own pet theory of sustainable expenditure, which is most suitably adapted to Emission abilities like his own.

“I coined the name of the theory, and you have the honor of serving as my first ever lab rat,” Izunavi tells him.

Leorio may be the lab rat to Izunavi’s experimental teaching techniques, but he can certainly feel himself getting stronger, gaining confidence as his punches progress from scattered sparks to more substantial spheres of power.

Leorio also learns to extend his range. From the entrance to the medical ward, he can remotely summon a portal on the floor of Izunavi’s room in the central hospital — a trick that he frequently utilizes to beckon his new teacher to join him for smoke breaks. Of course, Leorio’s intimate familiarity with the geographical layout of the ward serves as a crucial factor in his favor.

One morning, after a particularly invigorating training session, Leorio and Izunavi traipse back to the front counter of the ward to see a bunny-eared woman sitting next to Gel.

“Hey there, Pyon,” Leorio says. “You have business in the medical ward?”

Pyon puffs out her cheeks indignantly. “Business? No business whatsoever! Seems like all the Zodiacs have important business to do but me!”

“Pyon is furious because Cheadle won’t let her join the meeting that she’s having with Mizai, Botobai, and Ginta,” Gel explains.

“Those four are always so cliquish and secretive!” Pyon complains. 

Leorio attempts to reassure her. “They’re not singling you out. Gel and I were excluded from recent meetings too. I heard that Mizaistom is wary about the presence of a spy.”

“That’s not even the worst part!” Pyon huffs. “A few days ago, the Rat dropped by, and they let _him_ join their meeting, but not me! What’s up with that?! I’ve been in the Zodiac Twelve longer! Chairman Netero personally selected me, while the Rat randomly took over when Pariston flaked!”

Leorio freezes. Kurapika was here?! He was in the third tier, and didn’t even stop by to say hi? Leorio’s thoughts are whirling chaotically in his head, and he isn’t sure what to say or what expression to display.

As Pyon gazes at Leorio’s sweat-soaked face, her resentment shifts to curiosity. “Were you exercising just now, Leorio?”

Izunavi clears his throat impressively. “I’ve been assisting Leorio with his training. I was Kurapika’s master too, you know. Two Zodiacs under my tutelage. . . . I couldn’t be prouder of my students’ achievements.”

While Gel is generous with her compliments to Izunavi — and with the flutter of her eyelashes — Pyon looks thoughtfully at Leorio.

Leorio is starting to feel self-conscious. “Gel, give me a minute to change, then I’ll join you behind the counter.”

Leorio leaves to peel off his dirty clothes and put on a fresh uniform. When he returns to the others, Izunavi is leaning over the counter and regarding Gel with an inquisitive expression.

“I don’t know, Izunavi,” Gel is saying. “It just seems too soon.”

“We’re just going to hang out,” Izunavi persists. “That’s it. No pressure whatsoever. If you’d prefer a more laid-back atmosphere, why don’t we go out as a group?”

“Are you suggesting a double date?” Pyon chimes in. “Gel, you _have_ to say yes! The Zodiacs never get the chance to do fun stuff like this!”

Gel still sounds doubtful. “A double date? But who —”

“Leorio and I will come along, of course!” Pyon bounds over to Leorio’s side and squeezes his arm. “Right, Leorio?”

“Wha —?!” Leorio feels as though his body is vibrating as Pyon, ecstatic, bounces nonstop beside him.

Gel smiles ruefully at her friend’s frenzied delight. “Well, I suppose if the two of you are coming too, then it’s probably fine. Does this arrangement work for you, Izunavi?”

Izunavi grins. “Couldn’t be happier about it. Shall we all meet back here tonight, then? Say, at around seven?”

Izunavi marches off after a breezy wave at the women, and Leorio takes a few seconds to wriggle away from Pyon’s grip on his arm, trying to be as tactful as he can. He then catches up to Izunavi, who’s walking back to his room in the central hospital.

“What was that all about?!” Leorio demands.

Izunavi nudges Leorio playfully with his shoulder. “No need to thank me! I’ve actually been looking out for a while now for someone who’ll be good for you. Someone who can help you heal your broken heart. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better than Pyon! She’s small and feisty and cute, so she’s your type, right? Not to mention, she gets along well with Gel and puts her at ease, which is a bonus for me. This is all working out perfectly!”

“I’m not ready for this! I’m nowhere near ready!”

“When will you ever be ready? Come on, it’s already been two weeks since he rejected you!”

And only one week since Leorio had sex with him for the first time, for the last time. Leorio still sees him in his dreams, every time he closes his eyes. “It’s just too raw, too fresh,” he mumbles to Izunavi. “I can’t deal with anything new right now.”

“Something new is _exactly_ what you need. And a cheerful girl like Pyon, who has zero baggage . . . she seems perfect. At least give this a shot, okay? For me?”

A double date with his new mentor and the second and third hottest Zodiacs, in Leorio’s humble opinion — this is truly one of the last things that he would ever expect to happen on an eight-week expedition to the Dark Continent.

Clinging to Leorio’s arm, Pyon chatters away. As they traverse the hallways of the third tier, they lag behind Izunavi and Gel, given that Pyon periodically pauses to instruct Leorio to pose for photos.

After Pyon tells Leorio for the third time to hold a thumbs-up to the camera, he decides to speak up. “Listen, Pyon. . . .”

Pyon is beaming down at her phone with the pink bunny-ear case, her thumbs flying so fast over the screen that they’re practically a blur. “Hmm? What’s up, Leorio?”

When Pyon glances up at him with a radiant smile, Leorio backtracks with what he intended to say. “I just wanted to thank you. For suggesting this double date, I mean. Izunavi has been wanting to ask out Gel for ages, and she might not have said yes if you didn’t push for it too.”

“Oh, I didn’t do it for Gel and Izunavi. I did it for myself.” Without warning, Pyon jumps up to hold Leorio’s face with her small hands. “Leorio, you’re _totally_ the type of guy I want to date! Freakishly big, but surprisingly soft and sweet!”

Leorio’s face flames up instantly. “Eh?! Ah —”

Pyon squishes his cheeks between her palms. She then looks over to the side and only then seems to notice that Izunavi and Gel have already disappeared around the corner. She grabs Leorio’s hand now. “Come on! We gotta catch up to them!”

They race down the hallway, with Pyon towing along Leorio behind her. Just as he’s starting to appreciate the promising stirrings of a new beginning, the realization of where Izunavi has taken them forcibly sucks out all the oxygen from his lungs.

The vista area. Arguably the most romantic location on the Black Whale, and certainly the place with the best view of the stars, which are sprinkled liberally across the inky expanse of sky.

Leorio, however, can’t bring himself to appreciate the spectacular view. He can only think back to that time — catapulting sacks of decapitated heads overboard, with Melody by his side. Heads tumbling from the cloth sacks, spinning against the azure sky. Mouths agape with silent screams. Eyes frozen open forever, reflecting death, perhaps, or the clown that brought that doom upon them.

Leorio’s hand trembles as he instinctively reaches for the pack of smokes in his pocket. Although he sticks a cigarette between his lips, he doesn’t light it up. Nausea is rippling over his stomach now. Overpowering.

Noticing the color draining from her date’s face, Pyon asks him what’s the matter.

Leorio can’t take this anymore. His only response to Pyon is to sprint forward and projectile-vomit over the edge of the ship.

Once he’s emptied his tummy’s contents into the icy sheets of water below, Leorio clasps a palm over his mouth and, already fearing their reactions, turns toward the others. He’s not at all surprised by the mute horror on their faces. Way to ruin this double date, Leorio.

Leorio’s voice is muffled against his hand. “Seasick. Sorry, I should leave. Don’t worry about me. Just enjoy yourselves.”

With this, he leaves them and returns alone to the medical ward.

The medical ward’s regular opening hours are over now. Leorio raises his left hand to acknowledge Cheadle, who’s working alone behind the counter, plowing through the paperwork that piled up while she was away at her meeting.

Leorio drops by the bathroom to thoroughly wash his mouth and hands, then stops by the pantry to pour two mugs of coffee. He goes back to the front counter to offer a mug to Cheadle, who thanks him for his thoughtfulness.

“Anything I can help you with?” Leorio asks her.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Cheadle spins around on her swivel chair to tap a mountain of papers behind her. “Will you please sort these files according to the date of admission?”

Leorio nods and settles down next to her to begin rearranging the files. 

As Cheadle efficiently applies her signature to a series of documents, she initiates conversation. “Any particular reason why you departed early from your double date? Pyon sounded excited to go out with you.”

Leorio sighs. “Let’s just say it was a total fiasco, which may or may not involve trauma triggers and seasickness used as a scapegoat.”

Cheadle pauses for a second to consider this. “You’ve barely told me anything about your experience up there, back in the first tier. Mizai and I were hard on you, I know — suddenly leaving you to fend for yourself in a war where the rate of casualties is sky-high. You didn’t come to the Black Whale to fight, but to train. I understand that, and I’ve been meaning to apologize to you about that.”

Leorio brandishes both hands to dismiss her concerns. “Hey, no need to be sorry! I’m the one who chose to head up to the first tier, over Mizaistom’s objections! Besides, you _have_ been training me, as best as you possibly can. Cheadle, you’re _incredible_. Really, I’m floored every time I watch you do your thing in the operating room. You’re the most talented doctor I’ve ever met, by far!”

Cheadle stares silently at Leorio, and he stares back, wondering whether he’s said anything offensive by accident. It then dawns on him that she isn’t pissed. Not at all. Color is blossoming over her cheeks.

Argh! Cheadle’s blushing is making Leorio himself blush! He never would have guessed that Cheadle was capable of being this adorable! He averts his eyes and gives an exaggerated cough. To hide his embarrassment, he makes a big show of rifling as noisily as possible through the files in front of him.

When Leorio dares to glance at Cheadle again, he sees that she’s smiling as she dashes off signatures.

Cheadle catches him watching her. “What are you thinking about, Leorio?”

What is he thinking about? Beyond the moment-to-moment preoccupations of his brain, the back of his mind is reserved for always the same thing. The same person, to be exact. “I’m just . . . dreading seeing Pyon and Gel again, after tonight’s disastrous date. I sure made a fool of myself.”

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” Cheadle says, her voice soft. “Perhaps I should introduce a new by-law to the Zodiac Twelve’s internal rules, one that prohibits members from entering romantic entanglements with one another. Otherwise, it can get messy, right?”

Leorio answers too quickly. “No! You can’t! I don’t want that.”

“Then you’re okay with messy, Leorio?”

When Cheadle tentatively rests her hand over his, Leorio holds his breath. He doesn’t pull away.

Two days later, Leorio is in the cramped pharmacy of the medical ward. While his hand roots blindly over stacks of analgesic ointment, his eyes are trained toward the rubbers by the counter. 

Should he pick some up? Sure, he may be moving too fast, but everything moves fast on the Black Whale these days, doesn’t it? It can’t hurt to be safe.

Steeling himself, he marches toward the counter. He plops down a minuscule bottle of menthol balm, then casually adds a foil packet on top of it. 

Just then, the bell over the door pings, and a new entry navigates between the narrow aisles to stand beside Leorio. The new arrival claps down a bottle of aspirin on the counter and calls for a refill.

Leorio’s jaw drops once he sees the person standing next to him.

Surprise also flickers over Hisoka’s face, but he’s grinning in no time. “Yo. It’s been a hot minute, hasn’t it?” 

There’s a body splayed over Hisoka’s back, which he’s carrying piggyback-style. It’s Kurapika, sound asleep. Not too long ago, Leorio was the one holding Kurapika like this. How the tables have turned.

Hisoka strokes Kurapika’s arms, which are wrapped snugly around his neck. “Kurapika, look! It’s your ex-boyfriend! Ah, it’s no good. He’s just drifted off, so he won’t wake until tomorrow, most likely.”

Leorio’s shock gives way to anger now. “What the _hell_ have the two of you been doing again?! Did he collapse?!”

“No, no. He’s just tired. The countless sleepless nights — care of yours truly — must have gotten to him.”

The pharmacist is reaching for the bottle of medication that Hisoka brought in, but Leorio grabs it first. He shakes it. It’s not a small bottle, and it’s empty.

Leorio’s tone is accusatory. “Kurapika picked up this aspirin about a week ago! There’s no way he could have gone through an entire bottle within that time, not unless he’s been abusing it!”

Hisoka sighs. “He’s not the only person up there, you know. Without your famously soothing presence to alleviate their stress, all the members of the 14th Prince’s camp have been suffering aches and pains.”

“I don’t fucking believe you. How many pills has he been swallowing per night? Per _hour?_ ”

Hisoka snatches the bottle away from Leorio and tosses it toward the bemused pharmacist. “Then what do you expect him to do? Ignore each excruciating twinge of his pretty little head?”

“If he’s having migraines again, then that can only mean . . .! So let me ask you one more time. . . .” Leorio grasps the collar of Hisoka’s shirt and roughly yanks him forward. “What has Kurapika been doing lately? What have _you_ been doing to him?”

Hisoka only smirks and says nothing. He presents a number of coins to the pharmacist, who dutifully trades them for a full bottle of aspirin. 

When Hisoka’s eyes wander over Leorio’s prospective purchases, he hoots in delight and slaps Leorio’s hand away from his shirt. “Some advice, my dear friend? If you want to be safe, be _really_ safe. One rubber won’t be enough. For a premature ejaculator like you? No way!” Hisoka reaches out and overturns the display of condoms, which rain down in a heap over the counter. “There, that’s more like it! Have fun, and fuck responsibly!”

Cackling, Hisoka skips out of the pharmacy, with Kurapika still sleeping serenely on his back.


	33. Easy fixes for lonely mouths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Cheadle encourages Leorio to swear off smoking. Even though it pierces his heart to do so, he gives up an almost full pack of cigarettes to Cheadle for safekeeping, and she in turn supplies him with nicotine patches and other aids for smoking cessation.

“If you ever find yourself craving the familiarity of that bad habit, there’s always an easy fix,” Cheadle tells him. “Kiss me when your mouth feels lonely.”

Leorio sighs. “That’s going to be a thousand times a day, then.”

“Then kiss me a thousand times every day, if that’s what it takes.”

“Thanks for being so supportive. You’re the best.” Leorio plants a smooch on her button nose. “What are you doing tonight? Can I visit you?”

“Yes, tonight should be fine.” Just then, Cheadle seems to remember something. “Ah, please remind me if I forget later — I need to call the 14th Prince’s quarters about a half-hour before midnight. Kurapika said that he’d definitely be in by then.”

Leorio stiffens, then tries to sound casual. “Oh? What do you need to talk to him about?”

“Once Kurapika gives the go-ahead, I’ll call for a full Zodiac Twelve meeting. The Zodiacs need to take care of something together. It’s about time that the Hunter Association takes a united stand against Kakin.”

The next day, Leorio’s heart sinks as he sees Hisoka standing next to Kurapika by the entrance to the political ward. This horror is only compounded when Hisoka instructs the new arrivals to raise their arms so that he can frisk them.

Leorio and Gel both glare defiantly, but Cheadle raises her arms right away to allow Hisoka to inspect her.

“We need to make sure that nobody’s being bugged,” Kurapika explains. “This will save us a lot of trouble later, we assure you.”

Once Hisoka finishes checking on Cheadle, he turns to Leorio, who stubbornly keeps his arms crossed over his chest. “No need to play the blushing virgin with me,” Hisoka says, a teasing smile on his lips. “Arms up, you big stud.”

Kurapika shoves Hisoka aside. “Hisoka, if you’re just going to sexually harass Leorio, let me do him instead.”

Chuckling, Hisoka turns to Gel, and Leorio lifts his arms to let Kurapika frisk him. 

Leorio tries to think of something — _anything_ — else as Kurapika puts his hands on him, but it proves to be an insurmountable task not to picture Kurapika’s perfect body beneath him, above him. Kurapika is staring steadily as he reaches up to touch Leorio’s face. Heat sears over Leorio’s chest as Kurapika’s chained fingers brush over his ear.

Kurapika steps backward, then shows Hisoka a piece of confetti on his index finger. “This is what we’re looking for, right?” Kurapika inquires.

Hisoka whistles. “Oh, nice job! Where’d you find it?”

“Behind Leorio’s left ear,” Kurapika tells him.

Hisoka snickers. “How long has _that_ been there? You don’t wash behind your ears when you bathe, Leorio?”

When Leorio opens his mouth to protest, Kurapika swiftly tries to reassure him. “Leorio, don’t worry about it too much, okay? Hisoka found traces of surveillance on the Tiger and the Rabbit as well. The individual who tapped you is simply that talented, to have gone for so long undetected. We’re just lucky we found out before it was too late.”

Kurapika holds Leorio’s gaze for a few seconds, then his dark eyes move on to the next set of Zodiacs who require his attention.

Leorio looks around the conference room and sees that every Zodiac except Saiyu, the Monkey, is present at the meeting. Thankfully, Hisoka isn’t there. He must have pranced off to decapitate even more victims, or something of that sort.

Even though Cheadle sits at the head of the table to preside over the meeting as Chairperson, every eye in the room is drawn to Kurapika as he enlightens them regarding the rationale behind this full meeting.

Kurapika talks about the alliance that he’d initiated among most of the surviving princes of the Kakin royal family, with 9th Prince Halkenburg acting as their leader, and with Kurapika serving as the 9th Prince’s emissary to the other princes and to external factions such as the Zodiacs.

“The Succession War is at a standstill, with the exception of the current confrontation between 2nd Prince Camilla and 4th Prince Tserriednich,” Kurapika explains. “This standstill has persisted over approximately ten days so far. The members of the alliance, as per the 9th Prince’s express wishes, have committed to refrain from making any drastic moves until the standoff between the 2nd Prince and the 4th Prince has been resolved.”

And once the outcome between the two warring princes is clear, what then? This question is put forward by one of the Zodiacs.

Kurapika is unfazed by the skepticism coloring the tone of the inquisitor. “8th Queen Oito and I have put our heads together to develop a definitive plan to end the war with minimal casualties, as well as to ensure that the 9th Prince prevails as the next ruler of the Kakin Empire. While we’re still refining the details of that inevitable final mission, I can tell you that it will involve an invasion of King Nasubi’s quarters and the destruction of the Seed Urn.”

Several Zodiacs make enthusiastic noises upon hearing about this plan. Kakin’s king has been troubling the Hunter Association for so long that the prospect of putting him in his place is almost universally appealing to the occupants of the room.

“Sorry, but what’s the Seed Urn again?” Leorio asks. “It sounds somewhat familiar, but. . . .”

“That particular artifact, which has been passed on from generation to generation of the Kakin royal family, imbues the binding contract governing the Succession War,” Kurapika tells him. “Once the Seed Urn shatters, the war is over.”

Cheadle raises her voice to address the entire room. “When the victor emerges from the battle between the 2nd Prince and the 4th Prince, the Zodiacs will lend our collective strength to the alliance of princes led by the 9th Prince. We need to usher in a new era of peace and order. Let the blood we shed on this final mission be the last.”

Once the meeting has formally wrapped up, Leorio watches from across the conference room as Kurapika silently listens to a conversation between Botobai and Ginta. 

Leorio decides to approach. When he lightly touches Kurapika’s back, Kurapika jolts and spins around fast, looking alarmed. 

Leorio raises both palms to signal that he means no harm. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you there. I was careless. Again.”

“No worries, Leorio. I overreacted. Did you need something from me?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

Kurapika faces Botobai and Ginta again to excuse himself, then follows Leorio to the hallway outside the political ward.

Once they’re out of everyone’s earshot, Leorio asks Kurapika about whether he’s been taking too much medication. Like Hisoka did on his behalf, Kurapika denies ingesting too much aspirin.

Kurapika leans his back against the wall and rubs his dark eyes. “Things have been so hectic lately. I’ve been having trouble sleeping, so I’ll sometimes take a pill or two to help me drift off. It’s no big deal.”

“If the war has been at a ten-day standstill, what’s even keeping you so busy? Planning the final mission with Queen Oito?”

“Well, that and too many dates, I suppose.”

“Dates . . .?” Leorio echoes, wondering whether he’s misheard.

“Yes, dates,” Kurapika says firmly. “You’ll probably find out sooner or later since pretty much everyone else knows, so I should just come clean and tell you. Hisoka and I . . . we recently made our relationship official.”

“Relationship?!” Leorio yelps.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend, and neither has Hisoka. We frequently go out on dates to secure some alone time amidst all this chaos.”

Leorio is too shocked and hurt to say anything for a while. He just stands there, thoughts all in a tumult. Kurapika _rejected_ him. Kurapika said no to him, then said no to everybody else in practically the same breath. While Kurapika refused to enter into a relationship with Leorio, he did confirm that Leorio was his favorite person. And yet . . . Kurapika agreed to be in a relationship with _Hisoka?_ Why? Why now? When Kurapika dubbed Leorio his favorite person, was he lying back then? Is he lying about his relationship with Hisoka now? Which parts of Kurapika’s words and actions are a deception, and which parts, if any, are honest?

While Leorio is still warring with his own mind, Hisoka suddenly pops up beside them both, just like a cursed magic trick.

Kurapika steps toward Hisoka, who reaches out to rub his back. “Ready to go, golden boy?” Hisoka murmurs.

“Yes, the meeting’s over.” Kurapika casts a glance at Leorio. “I’ll see you soon, Leorio. Please take care of yourself.”

Despite the ongoing deluge of stormy thoughts, Leorio forces himself to speak. There’s still something he needs to verify. “Wait a second, Kurapika. Don’t tell me that your _dates_ with Hisoka are the reason that you’ve been abusing Emperor Time again? Why else would you be suffering from migraines and taking too many pills?”

Once he hears this, Hisoka laughs and hugs Kurapika from behind. “Kurapika, were you showing off to Leorio about our relationship? How precious can you be?” Hisoka kisses Kurapika’s blond hair, then looks over at Leorio to answer the questions on Kurapika’s behalf. “You should already know this because you also got to play with my boyfriend, but Kurapika will sometimes activate his ability by accident if he’s intensely excited. You can imagine just how frequently _that_ happens when we’re out on dates, playing naughty games.”

Leorio’s anger flares up now. “Kurapika! You told me you’d stopped overusing Emperor Time! You can’t keep burning up your lifespan like this! Not by accident, not on purpose . . . no excuses! I won’t stand for this! I’m serious!”

Hisoka responds for Kurapika yet again. “Don’t be a wet blanket, and just let us have our fun. You’re having loads of fun too, aren’t you, Leorio?” Hisoka squeezes Kurapika’s narrow waist from behind. “Hey, Kurapika, guess what? I bumped into Leorio in the pharmacy and caught him red-handed buying a ton of condoms. Mounds of contraceptives! This playboy, he’ll pretend to be lovesick over you and only you, but secretly he’s been having so much sex that his dick’s about to fall off!”

Leorio’s mouth falls open in shock at this preposterous accusation, but he’s even more startled by Kurapika’s reaction.

Kurapika is staring at Leorio with a strange blend of emotions that he can’t conceal, caught off-guard as he is. There’s frustration there. Distress. Sorrow, even. And perhaps most surprising of all — pain. An agony that surpasses that time when his back was broken.

Before Leorio can think of what to say, Hisoka hauls Kurapika off. They head down the hallway and leave Leorio standing there alone.

While he and Gel are walking back to the medical ward, Leorio makes up a random excuse about forgetting his lighter in the political ward. He doubles back and sees Mizaistom just then exiting the conference room.

As Leorio has hoped, Cheadle is alone there, the last one left. Punching buttons on the telephone, she raises her eyebrows once she sees him.

He leans over her chair and kisses her. An easy fix for a lonely mouth.


	34. Games with no names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature. Violent content. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

As they’re walking away from Leorio, Hisoka can sense the anxiety and rage radiating in waves from Kurapika. Hisoka doesn’t bring this up, and neither does he complain as his boyfriend wanders around the hallways of the third tier, seemingly without purpose or direction, until they come upon a deserted corridor.

Kurapika bends Hisoka over and fucks him against the wall. He’s slow for the first minute or so, but once he knows that Hisoka can take it, he thrusts hard. Hisoka sucks in a sharp breath, and his fingers scrabble against the wall in front of him, seeking purchase but finding none.

“Can’t wait anymore?” Hisoka is struggling to keep his voice level despite the beating behind him. “These doors — any of them can open, at any moment.”

“Why are you complaining?” Kurapika asks him. “You like doing it in public, don’t you?”

Not as much as Kurapika does, apparently. Hisoka doesn’t voice this sentiment out loud. He can’t. His lover’s fucking him with reckless abandon now, and the slight discomfort that Hisoka is feeling edges closer and closer to outright distress.

Hisoka considers calling out the word that can end this, but just then Kurapika yanks back his fiery hair to kiss his mouth. Hisoka catches a glimpse of the scarlet glare, and the safeword snags in his throat. 

Kurapika then shoves Hisoka’s head back down and resumes fucking him. Rougher.

Hisoka is thinking back to the previous times when Kurapika was in this type of mood — dark and impenetrable. He seems to detect a pattern there. Kurapika is only this violent during sex when there’s something that he’s trying to deny, or something that he’s attempting to prove to himself.

Right before his climax, Kurapika pulls out. His cum splatters all over Hisoka’s back. 

Hisoka tries to stand up at this point, but Kurapika keeps him down. “Hang on. I need to clean you up.” Kurapika starts to wipe off Hisoka’s skin with a handkerchief. “Fuck. I came a lot.”

For his part, Hisoka is just glad that it’s over. He even takes on his usual teasing tone. “Why didn’t you do it inside me? You know I love it when you mess me up.”

“No time for indulgences like that.” Kurapika pulls Hisoka up and straightens up his boyfriend’s disheveled clothing. “We’re going on a date.”

Even though he was flaccid for the entirety of Kurapika’s surprise sex session, the blood rushes to Hisoka’s crotch now. He hoots in excitement. “Another date already? I knew it! You’ve developed quite a taste for these games, haven’t you?”

The next critter they manage to find is a big one. A giant, really. The insect attempts to pummel them with projectiles from its fingertips, but Hisoka and Kurapika dart away easily from his blasts. 

When the insect takes a moment to deflect the flurry of cards that Hisoka hurls toward its face, Kurapika wastes no time. He flings out his right arm and binds the insect into submission using Chain Jail.

Its mouth won’t submit, though. Like Number 5 before it — who kept up a steady stream of vulgarity until Hisoka pried out its guts, both literally and metaphorically — this new target has a few choice words for both Hisoka and Kurapika. Kurapika flicks his right hand, and the chains snake up, clamping over the insect’s lips.

Kurapika meets the critter’s stare with scarlet fire. He won’t back down, won’t reveal a sliver of doubt. Not even when his head begins, inevitably, to throb.

When Kurapika wakes up the next morning, he’s in the employees’ bedroom of the 14th Prince’s quarters, naked underneath the sheets. Hisoka is lying over the sheets beside him, also fully in the nude.

When Hisoka notices that Kurapika is awake, he smiles and starts to fondle himself. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Kurapika sits up. “You didn’t touch me after I collapsed, did you?”

“No, but you better believe that it was difficult to hold myself back. I’ve been waiting the whole night for you to open those exquisite eyes.” Hisoka rolls on top of Kurapika and holds him down by his wrists. “You looked so fucking delectable, sinking your fist into Franklin, again and again.”

“Didn’t I already warn you? You can’t say any names when we’re playing these games.”

“No names? Can I at least call your name when I’m gushing inside you?”

Kurapika groans as Hisoka slips inside him. Looks like Hisoka wasn’t kidding when he claimed to be waiting all night for this.

Hisoka grunts. “You’re damn tight. I’ve been too lenient with you lately, letting you abuse my hole whenever you need to relieve your frustration. You better not forget who’s on top here.”

“Remind me, then. Show me why I should submit to you.”

So Hisoka does. Keeping Kurapika in place by the waist, Hisoka drives his dick inside him with long and savage strokes. 

Kurapika tries not to scream, but Hisoka keeps smashing against the same impossibly sensitive spot, scrambling him up deep inside. Unable to hold back, Kurapika throws a pillow over his own face to drown out the desperate noise clawing up his throat.

Hisoka grumbles in annoyance. “Don’t. I want to see. Want to hear you come for me.”

Once the pillow is ripped away, Kurapika grabs Hisoka’s face and kisses him hard. He moans against Hisoka’s mouth as he feels himself ejaculate. He’s still leaking a bit when Hisoka thrusts his deepest yet, and the hardness breaks inside.

Hisoka sighs his lover’s name, sensually, as he comes. “Mm. Always feels like I’m melting when I’m spurting inside you. You’re so hot.”

Hisoka pulls out his cock, but stays in his position on top of Kurapika’s body, trailing drowsy kisses over Kurapika’s neck.

Kurapika allows a few minutes to pass, then liberates himself from his boyfriend’s weight above him. He reaches for the aspirin on the bedside drawer and washes down a handful of pills with a glass of water.

“Are you done melting yet?” Kurapika asks. “Let’s go out.”

“Don’t tell me you want to date again? Kurapika, it’s morning.”

“We got lucky for the past couple of dates,” Kurapika says. “Now that the critters are creeping out of their hidey-holes, it would be a waste to ruin the momentum, you know?”

“What about breakfast?”

“If you can show me a fun time, I’ll get you whatever you want.”

He’s always wanted to see what lies underneath all that linen, Hisoka muses aloud as he unfurls the bandages from the broken body beneath him. Hisoka’s eyes light up in fascination as the critter’s true appearance is revealed, but just as quickly dull in boredom.

Declaring his curiosity satiated, Hisoka holds up two fingers, with the Ten of Clubs poised between them. “Any last words?” Hisoka inquires.

Predictably, the insect coughs up a swear word or two. These insects all believe they’re being original when they leave the world as dirty as the day they were born, but in the end they’re all the same. Hisoka presses the tip of the card against the tattooed spider. The skin breaks, and blood oozes out.

Kurapika briefly turns away from their other captive, who is securely chained, to speak to Hisoka. “You’ve tormented that one enough. We should move on.”

“One more minute.” Using the sharpened Ten of Clubs, Hisoka saws the etched spider in half, then in quarters. Of course, the dark liquid that flows from this endeavor is copious.

“Hisoka. . . .” There’s a warning in Kurapika’s tone. 

When Hisoka glances up from his work, he sees that his partner is pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing fast. Hisoka takes this as his cue to break the neck of Number 10. He then stands up to face the next one — the woman.

Although the Three of Clubs is tucked ready behind his ear, Hisoka doesn’t make any definitive moves against his next supposed victim. Hisoka merely smiles and takes his sweet time shuffling his deck. In a flash, Kurapika realizes that Hisoka is actually hesitant about dealing with her.

Just this once, then. Kurapika steps in front of Hisoka and dispatches the Judgment Chain. He doesn’t think he’s imagining Hisoka’s sigh of relief behind him.

Kurapika has met enough of these vermin to have realized by now that they will never give up the locations of their kin. In the face of his unyielding interrogation, the price for such fruitless and misplaced loyalty can only be a one-way ticket to hell.

The Stake of Retribution thus claims its third life. Chain Jail deactivates, and Kurapika’s temples are pounding worse than ever before.

Kurapika stumbles to the corner of the ransacked cabin, sinks to the floor and holds his head between his knees, willing himself to hold on to consciousness.

A shadow looms over Kurapika. It’s Hisoka, who’s asking to borrow a pen. Kurapika reaches into the inner pocket of his blazer, and his chained fingers graze against a bottle. He’s almost forgotten that he’s taken it along for today’s date.

Kurapika hands Hisoka a fountain pen. “What are you planning to write?”

“I’m leaving a love letter for Danchou. If he won’t come and face us himself, we’ll keep plucking out his limbs, one by one, until he can only crawl to us, legless, to beg for our forgiveness. He’s been warned.” With his usual flair for the dramatic, Hisoka uses Number 10’s blood as ink. He inscribes the message on the Three of Clubs before placing the card in its proper position on the newest corpse.

Kurapika unscrews the cap of the bottle from his pocket, pours pills onto his palm, then tosses them back. He does this a second time, for good measure. Without water, the medicine doesn’t go down easily.

Hisoka raises an eyebrow at him. “Should we drop by the pharmacy again?”

Kurapika shakes his head. “This bottle should last me a couple more days.” Kurapika pushes the fountain pen away when Hisoka attempts to return it. “Keep it. Consider it an extremely advanced anniversary gift.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest.”

Kurapika rises to his feet. For a second, he feels like he might be fine after all, then his knees give way like the last time. He falls backward, out like a light.


	35. Entrapment of hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.
> 
> Special thanks to Caasi for suggesting this Leorio/Cheadle date idea.

Everything becomes a little clearer with each new body that Leorio touches. When he sets his mind to it, all earthly distractions ebb away. The crackling white fuzz scatters, and the outlines sharpen. 

Soon, perhaps, an achromatic motion picture, silent as the classics were, with chiaroscuro suggesting the secret chambers where ailments lie.

Then, eventually, technicolor — cinematic bombast, surround sound.

“You have years to go yet before you reach that point,” Cheadle tells him from the opposite end of her cabin. She’s huddled in the narrow pocket of air between two rickety stacks of volumes, five books already open on the floor in front of her. “In the meantime, I’d recommend reading as much about anatomy as possible.”

Leorio’s enthusiasm isn’t at all dampened by her pragmatic response. “My favorite subject! You wouldn’t happen to have any books on anatomy, would you?”

“For such a cornerstone of every medical field, of course I have at least a dozen volumes on the subject.” Cheadle’s hand wanders over the spines of the stack to her right, and she pulls one out without even bothering to verify its title with her bespectacled eyes. The stack of books teeters, but doesn’t topple over. “Do this one first. This is essential reading, to put it lightly.”

Sitting on the bed, Leorio catches the hardbound textbook that Cheadle lobs toward him.

He props it open over his knees, reverently stroking the glossy pages of intricate scientific illustrations, when the sharp corner of another book that Cheadle has thrown smacks him on the nose. “Ow!”

“Ah, I apologize. I hadn’t realized that you weren’t looking.”

“It’s okay. Doesn’t hurt.” Leorio blinks back the tears that have sprung from his eyes and rubs his reddening nose. He then checks his palm for blood, but there isn’t any. He watches Cheadle for a few seconds, just to make sure that she’s not planning to aim any more books at his face, but she’s already gone back to silently studying the pages spread open in front of her.

Leorio sets the second textbook aside and returns to the first. As is his habit whenever he begins reviewing anatomy, he flips the pages to the circulatory system first. His fingers trace the illustrated heart, imagining chains encircling it, a silver stake in place, steadily scraping away at the organ as it expands and contracts. Leorio has always been fascinated, if a touch frightened, by that mental image, even before he ended up falling for the only human that he knows possesses a heart presently entrapped in this manner.

The jitters won’t leave. Leorio drums his fingers over the front counter of the medical ward and taps his left clog to the same nervous beat. 

Cigarettes are not an option, and Cheadle is away. Besides, even if Cheadle was here right now, can she answer any of the questions that continue plaguing Leorio even though he tries repeatedly to quash them?

Leorio screws his eyes shut and sighs. He’s so worried about Kurapika. Will he ever stop worrying about Kurapika? Will Kurapika ever stop finding creative new ways to make Leorio wrack his head with worry? Why the hell is Kurapika butchering his own lifespan again? Is he _trying_ to kill himself?

And as if Emperor Time isn’t enough of a problem, that goddamn aspirin. . . . When Leorio interrogated Hisoka and Kurapika separately about the pills, they gave noticeably different answers, which means that at least one of them was lying. Leorio wishes that he can just believe Kurapika over Hisoka, but. . . .

Groaning in frustration, Leorio grabs the phone on the counter. He’s punching the number for the 14th Prince’s quarters, which he hasn’t even realized that he’s memorized until this very moment. His brain sure retains the strangest information — like a phone number that he’s sure he’s never called before — even though it stubbornly refuses to remember the differences among terms such as _keratin, creatine, creatinine._

Leorio waits, his heart in his mouth, as the phone rings. Yes, this is the right thing to do. He should directly ask Kurapika to explain himself. He’ll call out any lies that Kurapika spouts, any inconsistencies. He won’t stand for any excuses. He’ll arrive at the truth of the matter, even if he needs to pry it forcefully from Kurapika’s forever clenched fists.

“Hello?” someone answers.

Leorio recognizes the soft and musical voice. “Hey, Melody. It’s Leorio.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to hear from you, Leorio. Even over the phone, your heartbeat is as comforting as ever.”

“How have things been going over there?” Leorio asks her.

“If you’re asking about the Succession War, I’m a little worried, to be honest. We have only a week to go before the Black Whale’s expected arrival at the Dark Continent, but we still haven’t heard from the 9th Prince’s camp, which has been monitoring the conflict between the 2nd Prince and the 4th Prince.”

“Hmm. Is Kurapika in?”

“He’s here,” Melody tells him, “but if you wanted to speak to him, now probably isn’t the best time.”

“Is he busy right now?”

“Not quite. He’s been throwing up the entire day. At this moment, he’s in bed with a fever. His ears are ringing, he says, and he seems to be seeing two of everything.”

Leorio’s heart drops to his stomach. “What . . .?”

“For the record, we wanted to call for medical assistance. In fact, Hisoka even mentioned you by name. He asked Kurapika whether we should send for you — perhaps even transmit a request for you to stay here like you did last time — but Kurapika outright refused. Kurapika said that it would be far too dangerous.”

Leorio is in full panicking mode. “I don’t care! I’m heading there right now!”

“Wait, Leorio. I understand that you’re concerned about Kurapika, but he does have a point. It’s not like he hasn’t displayed similar symptoms before. He’s always managed to pull through, and I’ve done what I could. I’ve been playing songs on my flute to soothe his body and mind. As for Hisoka, he’s been making sure that Kurapika continuously replenishes his fluids.”

“His fluids,” Leorio repeats.

“I do mean that in the most innocent sense possible. I’m being stricter than usual with Hisoka. I won’t let him play with Kurapika any time soon, not when Kurapika can barely even stand up without assistance.”

“Listen, Melody. I need to tell you something super important. Kurapika has this bottle of medication on him. Take it from him. Flush the pills down the toilet if you need to. If I’m right, he’s been overdosing and poisoning himself. Consciously or subconsciously — who’s to say? What matters is you can’t let him take any more.”

Melody sighs with more exasperation than Leorio ever believed she was capable of conveying. “He’s truly been out of control lately. . . . Thank you for letting me know, Leorio.”

The moment that Leorio sets down the receiver, he ducks under the counter, weaves past the patients and visitors loitering by the entrance, and darts out the doorway. 

Cheadle is standing just outside the medical ward, her face barely visible above a stack of cardboard boxes that she’s carrying. “Perfect timing, Leorio. Help me with these, will you?”

Leorio takes two of the three boxes in Cheadle’s arms. As he follows her back inside, he blurts out, “Hey, I’m planning to head up to the first tier again.”

Cheadle sets her box on top of the counter, and Leorio does the same with his boxes. Turning to Gel, Cheadle imparts some instructions about what to do with the new supplies before she devotes her attention to Leorio again. “Why do you want to go back?” Cheadle inquires.

Leorio looks around. No good, there are too many people here. Leorio ushers Cheadle into the privacy of the stockroom before he bursts out with all his endless worries about Kurapika.

Leorio’s voice is fierce. “I know that Melody told me to stay away, but I want to see Kurapika with my own eyes! I need to make sure that he’s okay!”

Cheadle shakes her head. “Your friend Melody is right. It’s too dangerous, Leorio.”

“You know that Izunavi has been training me! I’m stronger now! I can take care of myself, Cheadle. You know I can.”

“When I say that it’s too dangerous for you to return to the first tier, that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s _Kurapika_ who’s too dangerous for you. Or at least I have reason to believe that he may be so these days.”

Leorio’s eyes widen. “Eh? What do you mean? Kurapika is my friend! My best friend in the whole world!”

“Regardless of whether you’re friends or not, you need to consider the company that he keeps. Consider the rumors circulating around the ship. With respect to a few of these rumors, Mizai has personally verified the truth.”

“Rumors? What rumors?”

“Someone has been going around and executing the members of the Phantom Troupe,” Cheadle explains. “At least five of them are dead, according to the most recent report. The Spiders are hardly saints, of course. With their reputation for lawlessness and their history of genocide, they’ve been the favored targets of Blacklist Hunters for years. However, these recent slayings of the Spiders have been so needlessly cruel and inhumane. Depraved, you might even say. All five corpses bear extensive ligature marks, while four of them show signs of torture. Hisoka, for one, hasn’t bothered to conceal his involvement in this slaughter — he’s left behind his signature style in all the crime scenes so far. But if reports are to be believed, Hisoka wasn’t alone.”

Leorio is speechless. If someone has been hunting down the Spiders, then Kurapika would indeed be the prime culprit. Kurapika undoubtedly has the motivation, the determination, and the unique ability to win almost effortlessly against the Spiders, particularly in one-on-one battles. And if Kurapika has someone as skilled as Hisoka by his side, then that will only make his quest for revenge all the easier to achieve. But still . . . _cruel and inhumane_ slayings? Surely, it’s Hisoka — that sadistic and perverted clown — who should be blamed for all that torture?

As Leorio broods, Cheadle continues speaking. “The Zodiacs have a vested interest in supporting the bid of 9th Prince Halkenburg for Kakin’s throne. The 9th Prince’s track record and known disdain for King Nasubi’s ironfisted rule suggest that he will be a fair, reasonable, and merciful monarch, one much keener to form meaningful diplomatic relations with the Hunter Association. There’s no denying that Kurapika’s plan, coupled with Hisoka’s formidable strength, is the best way for us to achieve this ideal outcome. Even so, this doesn’t mean that I’m comfortable with letting someone I care about visit Kurapika and Hisoka right now. I don’t know what they’re capable of, and I can’t bear to risk it.” Cheadle takes Leorio’s hand and stares at him somberly. “I’ll go check on Kurapika myself, alongside a small team of medical staff. Are you amenable to this alternative?”

“If you’re going to see Kurapika anyway, then why can’t I come along? Kurapika might be dangerous to certain people, but he would never hurt me. Ever.”

“Leorio . . . hasn’t Kurapika _already_ hurt you?”

Cheadle knows, Leorio suddenly realizes. She’s probably known, all this time, that Leorio harbors unrequited feelings for Kurapika that he can’t stamp out, no matter how hard he tries.

Leorio averts his eyes. “I understand. I’ll leave it to you, Cheadle. But please — _please_ — make sure that Kurapika will be all right. I’ll never be able to live with myself if he. . . .”

Leorio turns away, not trusting himself to hold on to his composure. He can’t do anything now but have faith in his friend. He just needs to believe that whatever Kurapika is doing, he has a good reason for doing it. It doesn’t matter what Cheadle or anyone else says — Leorio knows Kurapika, and he knows for a fact that Kurapika is not the monster that he pretends to be, or that others make him out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's part three of the playlist. Parts one and two may be found in the notes of Chapters 26 and 30. 
> 
> 1\. [Flames — BOY](https://youtu.be/pwmTZsLtsTU)  
> 2\. [Underline the Black — Metric](https://youtu.be/U1ej6O9ZPEE)  
> 3\. [Love Affair — UMI](https://youtu.be/D5qUpJo_Gac)  
> 4\. [A Pearl — Mitski](https://youtu.be/p8FDl_tMs4Y)  
> 5\. [Paralysed — Nilüfer Yanya](https://youtu.be/UJkVQZK4SVo)  
> 6\. [Baby I'm Dyin' — LOLAWOLF](https://youtu.be/qjL95xrJJCA)  
> 7\. [Night Shift — Lucy Dacus](https://youtu.be/0WDZdT04ls4)  
> 8\. [STUCK ON U — MICHELLE](https://youtu.be/992FNtWz4jM)  
> 9\. [1969dime — Monica Riskey](https://youtu.be/TfxWnW6VTxw)  
> 10\. [When You're Near Me I Have Difficulty — XTC](https://open.spotify.com/album/0cD3HOqQkFiP9wKE4ytJjg?highlight=spotify:track:2lgDSzjsx1yKagClBqJthP)  
> 11\. [Pluie — Snail's House](https://youtu.be/7HhAW9RRrLc)  
> 
> 
> I might have only mentioned "Pluie" now, but I listened to almost nothing else during the initial outlining stage and while writing the first few chapters. Regardless of the lack of lyrics, "Pluie" will always be my personal Leopika anthem. 
> 
> You can also listen to the full playlist on Spotify: [echoes of home [leohisopika mix]](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/77w2QpgJuqixTv7Wih7BMn?si=jxNlJRv6S0K9Pqen9NhjDA)


	36. Fever dreams in forests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Thinking nothing of the tremor there, Hisoka shoves something smooth and cold against Kurapika’s hand.

_Drink,_ Hisoka is saying, or at least seems to be, basing on the flutter of his lips. _Drink it up, baby. Drink it all down._

Hisoka’s voice is garbling out, an echo from a distant realm even though he’s sitting right there, resting on the edge of the same bed, his palm smoothing over the rapid thrum of Kurapika’s chest. So close that he must see every bead of sweat, the pearlescent sheen of mistakes that Kurapika can’t escape.

Kurapika’s eyes wander away from Hisoka’s face — creased with a concern that he surely does not feel deep down — to trace an unsteady arc toward his own hand. Instinctively, his fingers curl around the glass that Hisoka offers to him. It's filled to the brim, teetering, slopping water over the sheets.

_When you wake up for real, boy do I have good news for you._ The sounds aren’t syncing up with the motions of Hisoka’s lips, but they do reach Kurapika’s ears this time around. Hisoka smiles as he speaks, flashing all his teeth. 

The resulting burst of white blinds Kurapika’s stinging eyes for just a second, and when he glances down at his own hand again, the water is gone. 

Kurapika startles as he feels a chill against his collarbone. When did the glass get there? 

Hisoka is beckoning it again, closer this time. _You’ll feel better. Open wide._

Has Hisoka crushed Kurapika’s pills into a powder and mixed it with the water? Is he offering Kurapika just what he needs to feel better? The splitting sensation in Kurapika’s head has spread to his throat and to his abdomen, but maybe with this medicine, Hisoka means to take the agony away. 

Kurapika opens his parched mouth, waiting for a blessed trickle to soothe the burning, perhaps, but instead Hisoka pours everything, all at once. There’s a breathless burbling over Kurapika’s mouth, and suddenly he’s struggling not to drown.

A clearing in the forest. Sunlight filtering green through the leaves.

Kurapika catches glimpses of his former favorite person in the world. Pairo peers through bushes, peeks from behind the trunks of trees. Even though Kurapika gives chase, Pairo is always several paces ahead. Whenever Kurapika tries to call Pairo’s name — to ask him what’s wrong, to beg him to stay — his throat can only release an odd bubbling sound, his voice warping around a mouthful of water.

As Kurapika continues to run, his legs start to slow, to grow heavier with every step he takes. Instead of slicing through air, his calves feel as though they’re plowing through an invisible pool of jelly. Even then, he pushes past the building ache in his muscles. He can’t let Pairo get away. Once Pairo successfully escapes, Kurapika will never see him in the clearing again. Kurapika doesn’t know how he knows. He just does.

Kurapika sees a precipice approach, but he won’t stop running now. If he can only see Pairo beyond this cliff — if he needs to make his peace with the ground below — then he’ll do it. He’ll do whatever it takes to feel Pairo’s small hand on his own again. 

Just like that, Kurapika pitches over the precipice.

At the very last second, something yanks him back to safety. He falls to his knees, and the water that he’s been choking back for too long gushes from his mouth.

No. Not water. 

He’s vomiting over the edge of the bed, his fingers burrowing through blankets instead of blades of grass. There’s a hand on his back, rubbing soothingly as he heaves out his insides over the floor.

When there’s nothing left to throw up, Kurapika coughs once, then inches back his body toward a more secure position over the bed. He screws his eyes shut, willing the nausea to abate, and it does somewhat.

The hand continues massaging his back. This hand — isn’t it too large? If this isn’t Pairo’s hand. . . . If Kurapika isn’t dreaming anymore. . . .

Kurapika opens his eyes and twists around to look. “Leorio?”

But the person lying next to him isn’t Leorio, of course.

In this dream, two monsters observe each other by flickering lamplight.

Kurapika breaks eye contact and glances sideward. Beside him, Queen Oito is staring apprehensively at the beast across the room, which has swollen slits for eyes and a gaping chasm for a mouth. Its skin is a deep brown, with a texture similar to clay.

No, this isn’t a dream, is it? This really happened, ten or eleven or twelve days ago.

The queen is now telling Kurapika the same thing that she said back then. She recognizes the beast that looms protectively over her daughter’s stroller. It’s the Seed Urn, the queen insists.

Kurapika hastens to confirm this. Prince Woble’s Nen beast is the Seed Urn’s likeness?

The queen nods in response to Kurapika’s questioning. She’s positive that the beast’s face — perched over a body similar in appearance to a tortoiseshell cat’s, except closer to a tiger’s in stature — is identical with the Seed Urn.

Like the Nen beast of the late 10th Prince Kacho, the 14th Prince’s beast can also communicate with Nen users, albeit silently. When asked a question, it nods its head for yes and shakes its head for no. 

Guided by the queen’s crucial hint, Kurapika steers the interrogation accordingly. Presuming that Prince Woble’s beast only bears the truth, it possesses the unique ability to terminate the contract prevailing over the Succession War. All the beast requires is a face-to-face meeting with its twin, so that it can swallow the Seed Urn whole and snuff out that fearsome power in its belly.

These parasitic beasts, as Kurapika explains to the queen, appear to reflect their host’s most urgent needs and motivations. If Prince Woble’s deepest desire is to eliminate whatever is troubling her caregiver the most — namely, the war and all its consequent carnage — then it makes perfect sense that her Nen beast holds the true key to resolving this conflict without unnecessary bloodshed. And because the prince is still an infant, with her brain still developing by the day, such a marked delay in her Nen beast’s manifestation shouldn’t be surprising in the least.

Kurapika approaches the monster and cautiously reaches out his chained hand to pet it, right over the seed-shaped ridges on its forehead. Much like a cat, the Nen beast pushes up its face against Kurapika’s hand. It obviously appreciates this attention, this affection.

Kurapika, who continues to pet the Nen beast, isn’t facing the queen as he speaks again, yet he knows she understands that his words are solely meant for her. Kurapika declares that Queen Oito’s altruism — unflinching in the face of the barbarism around her — will save them the way that nothing else can. Without her kind heart, more princes are bound to die. The war can’t end, otherwise. And as young as she is, Prince Woble, via her Nen beast, is already showing signs that she will eventually follow in her mother’s footsteps, to one day display this same pacifism and humanity and grace.

Kurapika stiffens as he feels the queen suddenly embracing him from behind. She’s shivering, sobbing as she thanks him, over and over again, for his consistent support and faith in her. For the first time in months, she’s finally seeing the smallest crack of light at the end of this harrowing tunnel of darkness.

Kurapika smothers every urge to shove her off, to push his back against the wall where he’ll be safe. He lets her hold him, lets her drench his back with her mingled grief and relief. There’s this tiny bud of hope blooming in her breast now, and he’ll be damned before he ever allows anyone — least of all himself — to crush out something so pure and so delicate.

There’s a body pressing against his back, broad and hot and overwhelming.

_More water, Kurapika. You’ve purged too much, so you need to replenish. . . ._

Kurapika feels rather than hears the reverberations of a voice against his bones. This person behind him positions another glass of water over the blanket, by his right hand.

_Come on, Kurapika. Sit up. Drink. You’ll feel better._

Why does he keep saying that? He keeps repeating that, and yet Kurapika only feels worse during his brief forays back to wakefulness.

“Hisoka.” Kurapika calls him by the correct name this time, though not without effort. “Hisoka, stop. I can’t.”   


Hisoka’s lips are right up against Kurapika’s ear now, so Kurapika hears him loud and clear. “Yes, you can, baby. Open wide for me.”

It’s too much, all of a sudden. The tickling warmth over Kurapika’s ear, the oppressive pressure over his back, the muscular arms encircling him. . . .

In his panic, Kurapika’s chained hand spasms. A crunching sound, then jagged shards of glass slice into Kurapika’s palm. A violent red hue stains the blanket, and continues to pulsate behind his eyelids even as his mind attempts to distance itself from this garish scene. 

He sinks away from this nightmare and moves on to the next.

A thicket in the forest. Nighttime preventing him from seeing too far ahead.

For what feels like miles, Kurapika stumbles around blindly in the dense foliage before he finally surrenders and sinks down over a random patch of forest floor. 

Perhaps Pairo will find him and lead him back to a familiar path, or sit by his side and hold his hand until the sun rises. But Kurapika doubts it. He’s let down Pairo too many times now. He’s made Pairo suffer dearly due to his own carelessness. Lost his temper in the worst places and circumstances, more times than he can count. Left him behind, left him to fend for himself against the worst evils of the world, left him to die. Couldn’t save him, couldn’t chase him, couldn’t even fucking join him. 

Can Kurapika ever do anything right anymore? No wonder Pairo hasn’t visited him in weeks.

In the blue-black darkness, Kurapika stares down at his right hand. Blood is flowing freely still, blemishing the wood and leaves and grass around him. He then checks his left hand, which is also caked with blood even though he doesn’t remember wounding it. No, who is he kidding here? Both of his hands have been tainted for a long time now, haven’t they?

Whether asleep or awake, Pairo won’t ever hold his dirty hands again. And neither will —

No. Don’t say that name out loud. Don’t even _think_ it. There’s no point now. Kurapika has already pushed that person away. The two of them are too far apart to ever bridge that gap again, and for good reason. He needs to keep that heart — with his favorite heartbeat, by far — safe and pure and intact. No matter what.

Lost in the thicket, Kurapika presses his red hands over his red eyes. Even if a new day rises, sunlight streaming orange beyond the darkest of self-imposed nights, he won’t live to see the sky lighten now.

As he opens his brown eyes, he wonders for the millionth time why he’s still here, why he’s even alive.

“Are you awake for real yet?”

Kurapika turns his head to the right. Despite everything, Hisoka is still here, still lying next to him and smiling with the same old mischief. Hisoka must have mopped the floor, replaced the bloody sheets, wrapped bandages over Kurapika’s gashed hand, periodically changed his stinking, sweat-soaked clothes, and God knows what else.

“Good news?” Kurapika prompts him, his voice barely above a croak.

“Considering that you were wandering in and out of consciousness, I’m astounded that you can even remember that.” Hisoka reaches out to caress Kurapika’s cheek with the back of his hand. “The 9th Prince called. He was playing coy with me for a while, but he finally allowed me to pass on the message after ringing for the fourth time and hearing yet again that you were too sick to stand up, let alone hobble to the phone.”

“Then the standoff . . .?”

“It’s over. 4th Prince Tserriednich has won, and 2nd Prince Camilla is dead. 2nd Queen Duazul managed to escape. She’s hiding out in the 9th Prince’s quarters now. Having personally witnessed the murder of her eldest daughter, the 2nd Queen apparently has valuable insight regarding the 4th Prince’s abilities.”

“Good news,” Kurapika says once again, then forces himself to sit up. “Time to move.”

Hisoka narrows his eyes as he watches Kurapika shuffling over the sheets, as sluggish as he can possibly be. “Nice try, pretty boy, but _I’m_ going to start moving, while _you’re_ staying here to rest.”

Perhaps accepting that he can’t do much in his still feverish state, Kurapika stops testing out his own legs and instead taps on Hisoka’s back with his bandaged palm. Kurapika does this repeatedly until Hisoka finally clues in. Hisoka crouches on the floor by the bed and waits for Kurapika to clumsily clamber over his back before he stands up.

“To the 9th Prince?” Hisoka inquires.

“To the 4th,” Kurapika corrects him.

“The 4th Prince isn’t where he’s supposed to be. After he prevailed over the 2nd Prince, he and his faction stormed the king’s quarters and set up camp there. King Nasubi’s status — whether he’s dead or alive — is currently unknown.”

“Even better,” Kurapika murmurs against Hisoka’s nape. “We can fight them all there, while they’re holed up in the same location. But for now, the 4th Prince’s quarters. Have to check on something.”

Kurapika doesn’t expect to find anything of value in the 4th Prince’s quarters, but he needs to verify first before he confronts Prince Tserriednich directly. 

The insolent decadence of the abandoned royal quarters ignites something deep inside Kurapika, and he asks Hisoka to set him down on the floor. As Kurapika wanders over the wreckage — did 2nd Prince Camilla face off against her half-brother right here? — Hisoka follows a few steps behind, just to ensure that Kurapika doesn’t fall over and injure himself further.

A glint catches Kurapika’s eye. It’s coming from a shadowy corner of the 4th Prince’s bedroom. Carefully, he kneels down and picks up something that Prince Tserriednich has left behind. A meaningless artifact, maybe, to eyes that aren’t scarlet like Kurapika’s own.

It’s a cylindrical glass jar, broken open. Its sharp edges emit the stench of formaldehyde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! Check out Hisoka, Leorio, and Kurapika in obnoxious Christmas sweaters, here to bring you holiday cheer! (Or nightmares, depending on how you feel about them!) 
> 
> I drew this for Caasi, based on a conversation we had back in Chapter 33. I actually prefer the black-and-white version, which you can see [in this tweet.](https://twitter.com/ilyilaice/status/1342150697857388545)


	37. Heights of hedonistic splendor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature. Rough sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Midnight in the living room. On her flute, Melody plays a soft lullaby, designed to transmit the sweetest dreams to 14th Prince Woble, who is dozing in her stroller. Accustomed as she is to navigating the tensions and aggressions of the inflated male egos always clashing around her, Melody possesses a particular affinity for fostering insulated pockets of peace.

Swathed safely in her present pocket, and having long since perfected this tune of tranquility, Melody listens in on the different conversations occurring at various locations within the 14th Prince’s quarters.

In the queen’s bedroom, Queen Oito and Shimano, both novice Nen users, alternately fling out random and occasionally impish questions to the feline beast lounging over the silken sheets. They clutch at each other, gasping and giggling over the Nen beast’s responses — a nod for yes, a shake of the head for no.

Unable to see these answers, Melody almost wants to join the queen and Shimano in their fun, but decides to stay where she is. She does allow herself a smile, deriving a simple pleasure from the knowledge that her fellow women living in the 14th Prince’s quarters are in such high spirits. They’re so close to the end of this voyage, a mere hair’s breadth away from the conclusion of the Succession War. While the war’s ending may very well be a bad one, any levity at this late stage is warmly welcomed.

In the employees’ bedroom, Bill and Basho are lying on separate beds, with neither of them attempting to sleep. Basho is bending Bill’s ear about all the sights and sounds of the Dark Continent that he can’t wait to experience.

“Here’s how I picture life over there,” Basho is telling Bill. “I’m lighting up a fat blaze — getting a good start to the day — and riding my motorbike at breakneck speed. I’m tasting fruits, soaking in colors that ain’t no one’s ever eaten or witnessed before.”

“Wow, you took your motorbike with you?” Bill says.

“Do I look like a guy with that kinda baggage to you? Not me! I can easily Conjure anything I need with my Nen ability! Hell, I’ll even Conjure another bike for you! We can ride together! This is gonna be a blast!”

Bill only laughs, perhaps a touch nervously.

Kurapika and Cheadle, on the other hand, are conferring alone in the kitchen. While the Chairperson of the Hunter Association came all this way to give him a checkup, Kurapika is staunchly insisting that there’s not a blessed thing wrong with him.

“You wouldn’t consider fever, vomiting, tinnitus, and double vision serious symptoms?” Cheadle asks him.

Stainless steel on ceramic. Kurapika seems to be poking a fork at the dinner that Shimano set aside for him earlier. “Where in the world did you hear that? Whoever said that was grossly exaggerating. Yes, my head was aching somewhat, but I threw up a couple of times and felt better right away. My condition is entirely psychosomatic, I assure you. It’s just a mild case of a body being too melodramatic for its own good.”

“Then you don’t want anyone from my medical team to check on you?”

“Hang on, you brought a team with you?” Footsteps, then the kitchen door swings open. Kurapika pokes his head out the doorway to see who’s there, but aside from Melody and Prince Woble, there are only strangers idling about the living room. With furrowed brows, he withdraws and closes the kitchen door.

A muted scuffing as Kurapika returns to the kitchen table and pushes away his plate, which will most likely be barely touched, given his worrisome track record with food nowadays.

“You look disappointed,” Cheadle comments. 

Kurapika chooses to ignore this. “Anyway, Chairman, on to more important matters. . . .” He now launches into the specifics of what should happen when they all gather together to rush the king’s quarters in a day’s time. “The priority is ensuring that Queen Oito, who will be carrying Prince Woble in her arms, can safely reach the Seed Urn. Once that happens — once the 14th Prince’s Nen beast successfully accomplishes its task — everything else is background noise. Whatever else occurs is merely extraneous. The camps of the 13th and the 14th Princes have already been specially assigned to escort Queen Oito and Prince Woble.”

“Will that include you and Hisoka, then?”

“No, Hisoka and I will be taking care of 4th Prince Tserriednich. It’s necessary that the two of us perform this task on our own. According to the intelligence that we received from 2nd Queen Duazul, the 4th Prince possesses a uniquely dangerous power, which may exceed even the 9th Prince’s considerable capabilities, and which promises a swift death to anyone who dares to face him whilst unprepared. Hisoka and I have already strategized in depth about the best way to defeat the 4th Prince, and we’re both prepared to die fighting him, if necessary. As for the rest of you — the Zodiacs, the Pro Hunters, the Provisional Hunters, and the alliance of princes and their camps — I can trust you all to dispatch everyone else stationed in the king’s quarters. Unless otherwise stated, we can presume that every person there is hostile to our cause. Fortunately for us, the vast majority of the Kakin mafia has already been obliterated in the course of its private dealings with the Phantom Troupe, although a few key members of the Heil-Ly family — including Morena, Heil-Ly’s boss — have survived to fight on behalf of their benefactor, the 4th Prince. With regard to King Nasubi, if he has survived despite the 4th Prince’s invasion, we are under strict orders to leave him alone. The 9th Prince, backed by his loyal army of personal guards, wishes to face his father without outside interference.”

“Understood,” Cheadle replies.

“Chairman Yorkshire, I have to ask . . . did all the Zodiacs agree to participate in this mission? From what I can remember, a few of them tacitly expressed their reservations during the last meeting.”

“You will have practically the full force of the Zodiacs behind your plan. Every member, with the obvious exception of Saiyu, will be present.”

“Thank you, Chairman,” Kurapika says. “It’s an enormous weight off my chest, knowing that I have the support of the Zodiacs.”

“It’s no trouble at all. But in return, might I make a small request of you?”

“What is it?” Kurapika asks.

“Please don’t interact with Leorio any more than is absolutely necessary. I’m well aware that the two of you share a complicated relationship. If Leorio becomes entangled in whatever secretive business that you and Hisoka obviously have with the 4th Prince, I fear that he may get distracted and accidentally hurt himself.”

A pause, and Kurapika’s heartbeat takes on the curiously cacophonous rhythm that only ever comes out whenever he talks to or about Leorio — a sound that only grows more pronounced with each day that passes. “Of course. I care deeply about Leorio, and I could never bear for him to be hurt. If the Chairman feels that this is the best way for me to protect him, then —”

“Kurapika, you may care about Leorio in your own way, but speaking as someone who has always had his best interests at heart, I can confidently say that _your_ way is the _worst_ way to care about him. Leorio may not have a medical history fraught with fractures, internal hemorrhages, and psychosomatic fevers, but he’s still suffering silently. It hurts me to watch him hurt like this. If you — the person that Leorio calls his best friend in the world — can’t love him and look out for him, then I have no choice but to take your place.”

There’s a heavy scraping as Kurapika shoves his chair backward. “Is this everything that you wanted to say to me? I’ve just remembered that there’s something I need to do, so if there’s nothing else. . . .”

“Yes, I think we’re done here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kurapika.”

A thunderous bang as Kurapika bursts out of the kitchen again. His black contacts are tinged dangerously scarlet as he accosts Melody. “Where the hell is Hisoka?” he demands.

“He still hasn’t returned since the two of you went out together earlier this evening,” Melody tells him quietly.

With his heartbeat tempestuous now, Kurapika spins around and stomps toward the exit. Alarmed, Melody hastily shifts the lullaby to a harmony aiming to stop Kurapika in his tracks, but before she can even get to the first note, he’s already vanished beyond the doorway.

Cheadle just then comes out of the kitchen. “Is Kurapika always this dramatic when ending a conversation?” she asks Melody.

“Not always,” Melody says. “You caught him at a bad time. He’s been gravely ill these past two days.”

Cheadle raises an eyebrow and parts her mouth, clearly about to say something else, when another bang causes both women to jump. It hasn’t even been a minute and Kurapika is already back in the 14th Prince’s quarters, with Hisoka in tow.

Hisoka is smiling ecstatically even as Kurapika drags him along by the collar of his shirt. “Did you hear what I said? Our beloved Danchou finally agreed to meet me! Tomorrow’s the special day! Ah, I can’t wait any longer! Two delectable dinners, one after the other. . . .”

Instead of responding, Kurapika throws open the door to the employees’ bedroom. He rudely interrupts Bill’s and Basho’s lively conversation on safety measures for riding pillion on motorcycles to cast them both out of the bedroom. Considering that Kurapika’s contacts are off all of a sudden — his eyes drilling so deeply red that he seems to dust the air around him crimson — Melody isn’t surprised to see Bill and Basho shuffling out with nary a word of complaint.

Hisoka is still gushing nonstop about his upcoming sumptuous meals when Kurapika slams the door shut. Behind the door, inaudible to everybody except Melody now, there’s a squeak of bedsprings, a rattle of chains, then a hissed expletive from Hisoka. As the all too familiar animalistic noises follow suit, Melody turns resolutely away from the bedroom to face the others standing around the living room.

“Basho, will you kindly escort Chairman Yorkshire and her medical team to the guard post?” Melody says. “I have to get back to this lullaby for Prince Woble.”

Without awaiting Basho’s reply, Melody commences playing a song of boundless serenity. She means for this music to foster peace not only over the prince’s fitful dreams, but also over her own troubled thoughts.

“Do you _want_ to break my wrists?” Hisoka asks his boyfriend. “Come on, I need them for combat.”

Hisoka takes a ragged breath as the chain wrenches around his wrists even more tightly.

Kurapika’s voice is all impatience. “Don’t pretend to be so fragile. I know everything about your body. You can withstand much more than this, can’t you? Consider this your training. If you can take me on, you can take on anything.”

Kurapika doubles down on the force. The bed wobbles — once, twice — then jolts hard, finally cracking beneath them.

“Perhaps it’s a sign?” Hisoka suggests.

“I’m just shocked that I only broke the bed now.”

Without bothering to pull out, Kurapika relocates them to the next bed and carries on.

“The last time you fucked me this hard,” Hisoka reminisces out loud, “I was limping for an entire day afterward.”

“Must not be fucking you hard enough, if you’re still refusing to shut up.”

“Okay, okay. Can you just — just turn me around. Hard to breathe in this position.”

Kurapika withdraws the Dowsing Chain to flip Hisoka over to his back. He examines the welts on Hisoka’s wrists before wrapping the chain again, more loosely this time. “Better?”

“Much better.”

As Kurapika begins thrusting again, Hisoka carefully watches his face. They’ve been going at it for over an hour, so why are Kurapika’s eyes still the same color? Kurapika seems to be mellowing down now, stabilizing after his apparently infuriating interaction with the Chairman. The scarlet, however, doesn’t waver. Not even once.

Staring at scarlet, the 4th Prince is enraptured by dreams close enough to swallow whole. Devotion. Domination. The heights of hedonistic splendor. 

Indeed, the violet velvet of the king’s throne becomes his matchless majesty. For such a superior life-form — royal by birth and divinely blessed by the Seed Urn, that historic heirloom — nothing less than an entire nation’s ceaseless worship will ever suffice.

He’s already won, hasn’t he? Halkenburg is soft on him, and his younger half-siblings are but cockroaches that he can crush with the slightest stamp of a silk slipper.

As for the last peasant who ventured to defy him — that noisy woman who, emboldened by her temporary knowledge-based advantage over him, dared to aim a firearm at his head — he has finally gotten rid of her unpalatable presence.

“My dear, you are the only company I will ever need,” the prince declares.

The face nestled between his bare thighs agrees with a fiery gleam of its eyes.


	38. Summoned demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature. Violent content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Four days until the projected end of the voyage to the Dark Continent, they’re finally about to enact the plan to storm King Nasubi’s quarters.

Leorio walks the length of the hallway, ready to take his place alongside the Zodiac Twelve. The Zodiacs are tasked with taking down Morena first off, then the other Kakin mafia members who choose to fight with her instead of succumbing to a bloodless surrender.

Leorio clenches his fist as he goes. Sustainable expenditure, as Izunavi taught him. But beyond simply tempering the unruly spikes of his aura, Leorio applies this philosophy to other situations that his mentor, in all likelihood, never contemplated. Leorio is determined not to waste life and health and energy — of others or of his own — unless absolutely necessary. Until he reaches this point of sheer necessity, he can always talk things through, restrict the violence to the volume of his voice. Why else has he been blessed with such a big mouth?

“You’ll do fine, Leorio,” he mutters to himself, out of the corner of his big mouth. “Don’t forget why you agreed to join this voyage in the first place.”

“You _will_ do fine, Leorio,” a melodic voice beside him reassures him. “You’re strong and brave and dependable. When it comes to you, there’s never anything to worry about.”

Before Leorio can express his gratitude for the compliment, Melody overtakes him, followed by Queen Oito, who has the wide-eyed 14th Prince Woble wrapped in her arms. The 8th Queen is flanked by Bill and Basho. Biscuit skips behind them, looking cheerful to be out and about after being cooped up in the 13th Prince’s quarters for practically the entirety of the voyage.

“Hey, don’t leave me behind!” Hanzo calls, bounding after them.

Bill, Basho, and Biscuit welcome Hanzo among their ranks.

“How about 11th Prince Fugetsu?” Bill asks Hanzo.

“She opted to stay behind, just like 13th Prince Marayam,” Hanzo informs him. “Probably for the best. 9th Prince Halkenburg respects her decision.”

Leorio passes by the 9th Prince’s camp now, whose members are standing in a circle. The 9th Prince’s personal guards gaze admiringly at their leader as he gives them an inspiring pep talk in a low voice. While tempted to listen in, Leorio knows he should move on.

Leorio finally reaches the Zodiacs. At first, he takes his assigned position behind Cheadle. Noticing, however, that Cheadle isn’t paying any attention to him, absorbed as she is in her conversation with Cluck, he takes this opportunity to walk even farther ahead. He’s been dying to check on Kurapika, who’s first in line, standing right by the door to the king’s quarters.

“Kurapika?” Leorio says once he reaches him. “Are you feeling better yet? I heard that you’ve been —”

Leorio cuts his own sentence short as a chill runs down his spine. Leorio is looking directly at Kurapika, addressing him by name, and yet . . . Kurapika is staring straight past Leorio’s face as if he doesn’t even see him. As if Leorio doesn’t exist at all. Is this what it feels like to be a ghost?

Leorio detects a trace of scarlet over the dark eyes as Kurapika moves away to stand on the left side of the door instead, where Hisoka is waiting.

Leorio considers marching over to Kurapika again, demanding that his questions be answered or that his presence be at the very least acknowledged. However, just then, Kurapika seems to fall against Hisoka’s chest. 

Hisoka tucks a tuft of Kurapika’s blond hair behind his ear and leans in to whisper something.

Just one scream. Maybe Leorio should put his big mouth to work and get out one long, wordless scream of rage and frustration. Instead, with his blood pounding in his ears, Leorio stomps away, back to his proper place.

“You’re trash,” Hisoka whispers. “You’re good for nothing. Everybody who loved you has left you. Everybody who loved you, but who never left, is dead. They’re only dead because of you. Your weakness. Your incompetence. You failed them. You abandoned them when they needed you most. You should have died protecting them. You should be dead right now. You’re a waste of space. You might as well stop breathing. Your home is empty. Nobody wants you.”

Shivering, Kurapika rests a palm against Hisoka’s chest, then pushes himself off slowly, managing to stand with his own strength again. “Thank you, Hisoka. I needed that.”

Hisoka ruffles his blond hair. “If you need another boost, just let me know. This is fun, isn’t it? Like dirty talk beyond the bedroom. You naughty little boy, why are you still wearing your contacts? Didn’t you promise Daddy that you’d take them off? Strip!”

Kurapika gives a husky laugh. His throat must still be somewhat sore. “Okay, okay. You damn dirty talker. Just hang on. I’d almost forgotten.”

Kurapika’s right hand is trembling, so Hisoka volunteers to help out. Allowing his chained arm to drop to his side, Kurapika stands stock-still as Hisoka carefully plucks out the black contacts. 

It’s somewhat erotic, really, this act of extracting the dark film to witness the spicy scarlet underneath. Perhaps Hisoka can convince his boyfriend to add this particularly intimate ritual to their bedtime routine.

As Hisoka has suspected, 4th Prince Tserriednich also harbors a significant weakness to the sight of scarlet. Hisoka, who first floated the idea of having Kurapika fight sans dark contacts, already knows that even the briefest visual assessment will reveal that a flesh collector’s shelf of scarlet eyes, no matter how well-kept or extensive, can never compare to the live specimen.

The live specimen of scarlet eyes in question is currently darting around, always elusive as a lightning bolt in the thick of battle. Kurapika easily evades the advances of the 4th Prince’s guardian spirit, an antennaed beast of bulbous flesh and hawkish talons. The beast, which presents the face of a refined woman, dances around Kurapika on stilettoed feet. Its worm-like neck effortlessly extends and retracts in its repeated attempts to bite Kurapika’s head clean off his shoulders.

Over on the other side of the king’s bedroom, Hisoka keeps up a relentless stream of card attacks against the 4th Prince. Hisoka needs to ensure that the prince never has enough time to activate Zetsu, in which state he may apparently trigger a prodigious predeterminative ability. Hisoka takes care to liberally coat each card he throws with Bungee Gum. 

The 4th Prince, for his part, doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s gradually slowing down, getting more and more mired down by the rubbery substance. Even as the prince tries to twist away from each of Hisoka’s well-aimed cards, most of his attention is devoted to the neighboring battle, which features his invisible guardian, and to the brilliance of red that pervades it.

Once again, the beast bears down its razor-sharp teeth over Kurapika, who manages just then to puncture the roof of its mouth with the syringe of the Steal Chain. As Kurapika drains the beast of its aura — essentially its life force, as a Nen-infused spirit — the creature gapes its maw open, wider than ever before, to release a bloodcurdling howl. 

From the shadowy depths of the monster’s throat, the head of a child surfaces. The child also shrieks, spitting out a swollen two-pronged tongue, with each prong tipped with a scarlet eye —

It’s all over then. 

Hisoka watches in wonder as the Nen beast’s head, forcefully wrenched from its neck, spins in the air — completing four dizzying loops — and lands on the floor just in front of him. Twitching. Dying. Dead.

Hisoka glances over to where Kurapika was standing before, but he isn’t there anymore. 

Kurapika is suddenly looming in front of the 4th Prince, landing a powerful punch straight to his chest. Thrown backward, the prince’s body sails across the room and slams against the wall above the king’s bed. The prince slides down, leaving a glistening streak of red on the intricately stenciled wallpaper, then falls over the bed.

Kurapika approaches the prince, who is now stirring feebly over his father’s silken sheets. The prince’s fingers root over his own bruised chest, where a chain is already embedded deep in his flesh.

“You’re now bound by the Judgment Chain,” Kurapika explains, with his voice grave. “I set conditions. You follow my conditions. If you violate even a single one, you will perish.”

The prince struggles to sit up. Still in a somewhat disoriented state, his eyes wildly search the room for a way out.

“First condition,” Kurapika declares. “Do not use any Nen-based techniques. This of course includes Zetsu.”

The prince stops squirming, then fixes his gaze on Kurapika’s face.

“Second condition,” Kurapika says. “Answer my questions honestly.”

Right then, the prince appears to give up on the idea of even trying to escape. Resigned to his fate now, he flops his injured body over his father’s pillows again. “I will not lie. I detest liars with every fiber of my being, although I may make exceptions for the cute ones. Are you going to ask me about my collection of scarlet eyes?”

“I would praise you for this astute prediction, if not for the fact that I’m staring down at you with scarlet eyes of my own.”

The prince smiles. “I already knew you were coming for me. The Chain Bastard, they called you.”

Kurapika hesitates as something occurs to him. “Ah, so that’s what that critter meant back then.”

“Seems like Nobunaga wasn’t talking about warning Danchou after all,” Hisoka muses aloud. He notices that Kurapika flinches upon hearing the late Spider’s name.

“For over four weeks,” the 4th Prince is saying now, “I have eagerly awaited this chance to scoop out the scarlet eyes of the last Kurta survivor with my own two hands. No, perhaps with the silver spoon that I use to stir my tea. Does that not sound aesthetically pleasing?”

Kurapika flicks his right hand, and the prince gasps as the chain squeezes painfully around his heart. “Don’t speak as you please. Where are the scarlet eyes now? I’m here to retrieve them.”

“I cannot give them to you.”

“The eyes rightfully belong to me. They’re the remains of my family.”

“Be that as it may,” the prince says, “I cannot return them to you. The scarlet eyes are gone.”

Kurapika’s eyes flash dangerously. “Gone?! Where are they? Explain!”

“During the nominal ceremonies, I had a fateful conversation with those thieves who bear a grudge against you, the so-called Chain Bastard. We agreed upon a trade back then. They would furnish me with treasures the likes of which I had never seen, while I would —”

“Did you give the scarlet eyes back to the Phantom Troupe?!”

The prince snickers. “My, you offend your own flesh and blood with such a suggestion. Of course I would not sell the scarlet eyes for any price, would not barter them for any earthly treasure. I did, however, consent to relinquish the eyes in order to assist the Spiders in accomplishing a most deliciously sadistic move against the last Kurta survivor.”

“And what would that move be?” Kurapika asks stiffly.

“Since returning from the nominal ceremonies, and sporadically throughout the voyage, I have instructed my men to periodically cast out the components of my prized collection to the waters below. I personally threw out the last pair of eyes only three days ago.”

Kurapika’s voice is devoid of emotion now. “You threw all the eyes away, then.”

“Yes, and I have been patiently waiting for you ever since. How else can I excite the deepest fury from the final survivor, thereby bearing witness to the scarlet in its most scintillating state?”

Hisoka expects Kurapika to start screaming bloody murder right then, but to his surprise, his partner’s voice is as level as can be when he asks his next question. “Where’s Pairo?”

The prince only raises an eyebrow. “Pairo? Who or what is Pairo?”

“The head. The boy’s head. I know you have him in your possession. Why else would you bastardize Pairo’s memory with a hideous imitation of his beautiful face inside your Nen beast’s filthy mouth?”

“Pairo. . . .”

Kurapika’s voice wavers with repressed grief as he speaks. “I’ve been searching all over for Pairo’s head. I’ve sworn not to rest until I find my most precious person.”

“Pairo. What an exquisite name indeed. It suits him wonderfully.”

“Where is he?! Answer me at once!”

The prince jerks up in bed, wheezing as his fingers scrabble uselessly over his chest. Kurapika is smothering his heart with the Judgment Chain. Tighter. Tighter still.

Hisoka moves closer to touch Kurapika’s shoulder. “He’s going to die if you keep doing that. If the prince dies now, you won’t be able to get the answers you need.”

Kurapika grunts, impatient, then jerks his right wrist again. Once Kurapika has slackened the chain around his heart, the prince sucks in gigantic gulps of oxygen.

“Answer me,” Kurapika repeats, his voice quiet now.

The prince dabs at the sweat pouring over his face. “You need not get so worked up, I assure you. Just like you, I am quite the avid connoisseur of Pairo’s beauty and companionship. I may have thrown away the rest of your brethren’s remains in a concerted effort to spite you, but I could not bear to part with my beloved Pairo. You see, even as I grew increasingly paranoid with the women who shared my bed and sated my lust — I would flay them and fillet them for the slightest impertinence — Pairo alone remained a flawless bedfellow.” 

From the tangle of silk sheets, the 4th Prince unearths a lump which seems like yet another pillow, but which is actually the head of the long-lost Pairo. The prince takes on a nostalgic tone of speaking, as if recalling fond memories. “Dear Pairo. He was steadfast, he was silent, he alone could satisfy me. His company far surpassed the corpses of every useless woman my men would procure for me. Believe me, I have held other heads — coalesced with them to test their chambers and shapes around me — but nobody gets me quite like Pairo.”

Kurapika leans forward to take Pairo from the 4th Prince’s arms. Hisoka remains close by to ensure that the prince won’t try to take advantage of Kurapika’s temporarily distracted state. But the prince is only beaming, captivated by the fiery shimmer of Kurapika’s eyes as he reunites with his childhood friend and first love. 

Here, at long last, is Pairo — skin waxy, brown hair matted with white goo, mouth gaping open and dripping with the same sticky substance, eyes forever aflame. . . .

“Hisoka?” Kurapika’s voice is soft. “Will you please take care of Pairo for me?”

Hisoka receives the desecrated head and steps away, already anticipating the prime entertainment that he knows is about to unfold.

Kurapika doesn’t disappoint. The moment he entrusts Pairo to Hisoka, he turns back to the 4th Prince and beats him down on the mattress. Kurapika pounces on top of the bed, wedges his knees against the prince’s broad chest, and punches the prince repeatedly — ruthlessly — on the head. Blood is squirting out from the prince’s face, broken teeth are flying everywhere, and Kurapika is yelling, again and again and again — _how dare you, how dare you, how dare you. . . ._

Everything is red now. The sheets, the floor, the ceiling, the walls, the very air that Hisoka breathes. The scarlet is spreading, tainting every atom of the room with brutal bloodlust.

As he embraces Pairo’s head, Hisoka groans in unadulterated pleasure. He’s rock-hard as he relishes this most exquisite scene. Yes, this is _exactly_ what Hisoka has been waiting for all this time, the true reason that he’s stuck by Kurapika’s side. He’s always known that Kurapika was capable of such sublime carnage. All it would take was a push here and there, a voice to echo the darker thoughts, an external force to actualize the most violent fantasies. 

Shoved to the brink this way, sanity frayed and waiting to snap, the red-eyed demon that hooked in Hisoka in the first place — leaving him addicted to flashes of resplendent red, to this promise of _more_ — can finally reemerge. Hisoka and this demon he summoned, they can fight side by side from now on, obliterating everything that displeases them on their destructive path to hell. 

Kurapika only gives pause when his fists, bleeding from cuts from the prince’s teeth and shards of skull, are punching nothing except the pillows. He sits back on his heels, glaring down at the space where Prince Tserriednich’s face used to be. All that’s left now is a crimson pulp, purplish tatters of skin.

A minute passes. When Kurapika speaks, his voice is soft again, the way it was earlier. “Hisoka. . . .”

Hearing how lost Kurapika sounds, Hisoka hurries to his side and lifts him up from the 4th Prince’s corpse. Kurapika half-collapses by the king’s bed and stays there, plaintively asking for Pairo again.

Crouching next to Kurapika, Hisoka snatches the blanket crumpled beneath the prince’s legs. He meticulously wipes off the fresh blood drenching Kurapika’s hands before allowing him to hold Pairo once more.

Hisoka glances at Kurapika’s wristwatch. “It’s nearly time to meet Danchou. Are you coming along?”

But Kurapika can’t hear Hisoka anymore. With eyes like melting scarlet, Kurapika hugs Pairo close to his chest. Rocking forward and backward, he apologizes incessantly. For failing Pairo, over and over again. For losing his way. For taking too long. For so carelessly permitting all the evils of the world to disable Pairo, to destroy him, to defile his purity so irretrievably.

As Kurapika continues mumbling to himself, Hisoka caresses Kurapika’s blood-flecked face. “Listen, Kurapika. I know that the 9th Prince requested that his half-brother be neutralized instead of killed, if at all possible. But don’t worry about it, okay? If push comes to shove, I’ll take the fall for the 4th Prince’s murder. I’ll keep everything that happened here a secret. I’ll protect you until the end.” 

Kurapika, of course, doesn’t respond.

Hisoka kisses Kurapika on the forehead. “I have to go now. But I’ll come back for you as soon as I can.”

Hisoka drapes the bloodstained blanket over Kurapika’s shuddering shoulders before he gets up to leave the king’s quarters. 

It’s time to face Chrollo for the second round. Hisoka may have lost once, but he now has tricks up his sleeve that he didn’t have before.

Chrollo is waiting in the designated meeting place, the cabin that Illumi and Kalluto took as their own after dealing with its previous inhabitants.

Something white rustles beneath his boot as he paces. He kneels to examine it.

Paper dolls, with hands joined like the happiest of families. There’s a dull blow somewhere in the vicinity of his rib cage as he recognizes the silhouettes. 

Nearly every member of this found family — each handpicked by himself from the dredges of Meteor City — is gone now.

“Hisoka is on his way,” says a toneless voice by the entrance.

Chrollo slips the paper dolls into an inner pocket of his trench coat, somewhere close to his heart, before he turns toward the door. “Thank you, Illumi. Remember what I said before. Now that your job here is finished, you and Kalluto should escape as soon as possible, just like Feitan and Shizuku have already done.”

“Oh, we’re not at all worried,” Illumi says lightly. “Hisoka and I have a long history and a reasonably strong bond — one that isn’t likely to be derailed by bad blood among mutual acquaintances. At least, not just yet. You’re the one who needs to be careful, you know? Do you have a plan?”

“Something like that,” Chrollo replies. “Regardless of Hisoka’s response to what I’m about to tell him, this all ends today.”


	39. Deluge of emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature. Violent content. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.
> 
> Special thanks to Caasi, whose crucial advice helped me with Chrollo's characterization.

Hisoka is hard again at the moment that he lays his eyes upon the man who killed him once upon a time. Chrollo is facing away from him, the pointed gold of the cross on his coat looking almost luminous in the candlelit cabin.

When Chrollo turns to face Hisoka, his expression is blank, his hands empty. 

Hisoka wilts a little when he sees this. “Well, don’t just stand there and stare. Fetch your book and fight me.”

“Paper is a wonderfully symbolic thing, isn’t it?” Chrollo replies. “It can convey messages. Act as strategic weaponry for Nen users like you and me. Sever into shapes that trigger painful memories. Like a spirit, paper can fold upon pressure. Like a heart, it can tear into shreds.” Chrollo now moves toward the candle on the table. “Like a life, it can go up in smoke.”

Hisoka gasps and glances at the candle. “You didn’t.”

“But I did. You left me a letter written with Bonolenov’s blood. You asked me to give myself up. What more do you want from me?”

Hisoka is disgusted now. “I never asked you to burn your book. How else are you going to fight me?”

“I don’t want to fight you, Hisoka.” Chrollo takes a seat at the table. “Why don’t you sit down? We can talk.”

Hisoka suspiciously eyes the chair opposite Chrollo’s. “I’ll pass. I have no interest in playing with broken toys. Or engaging in idle chitchat with them.”

“If you never wanted me broken, then why did you go to such lengths to break me?”

“I was only trying to make you angry. I wanted to rattle that flawless composure of yours.” Hisoka parks a fist on his hip and twists his lips into an ironic smile. “You know what? Maybe if I wrench off your four remaining legs, you’ll change your mind about giving up. Even without Skill Hunter, your mastery of Nen should make you sufficiently diverting as an opponent. What do you say?”

Chrollo’s voice is calm. “You won’t lay a hand on Illumi and Kalluto. You’ve had plenty of opportunities before now to target them, but you haven’t so much as scratched them. As for Feitan and Shizuku, they’re not on the Black Whale anymore. I’ve already sent them away on a small boat.”

“I can always hunt them down. Haven’t you heard? We Hunters share a particular unfortunate habit. We’ll stalk our prey till kingdom come, no matter how much they try to run.”

“To what end now?” Chrollo inquires. “I’ve officially disbanded the Troupe. The remaining legs gave me, as the head, their word that they would never attempt to revive the Spider. You see, once I pass, Feitan will be the only founding member left. I want to keep it that way. You can kill me, Hisoka. Torture me. Do whatever else you want with me. I don’t care. You must promise, however, to end this rampage for revenge once and for all. Leave the surviving Spiders alone.”

Silence follows Chrollo’s supposed dying request. “Tell you what,” Hisoka says after a while, “why don’t I let my boyfriend decide how to handle you and your whining? Given that his grudge against you is a million times more powerful than mine, who knows what he’s capable of doing? If you’re seeking to be tortured. . . .” Hisoka licks his lips and grins. “My boyfriend can certainly give you what you want. He has a burgeoning talent for torture. I’ve seen his sadism in action while hunting down the Spider’s legs together. Someday he’ll give even your beloved Feitan a run for his money, mark my words.”

Chrollo clasps his hands over the table. “As you wish. Bring me this boyfriend of yours. I’ll wait right here.”

“After this joyful reunion, you may think twice about surrendering. I’m hoping to ignite a spark of vitality in you yet.”

Hisoka has to explain the situation numerous times before it finally gets through Kurapika’s stupor. As the words sink in, Kurapika jerks out of the indescribable emptiness that permeates his every muscle and bone. His fury upon hearing that Chrollo is serenely awaiting his judgment equips him with a new sense of purpose.

Carefully, Kurapika wraps his childhood friend’s head in the bloodstained blanket and struggles to his feet with Hisoka’s assistance. “That murderer must pay for every life he’s robbed from me. Lead the way, Hisoka.”

In the cabin, Chrollo shows no signs whatsoever of fighting, escaping, or resisting. Nevertheless, Kurapika whips out his middle finger and imprisons Chrollo with such force that his chair scrapes backward and crashes against the wall. 

“Tell me why you did it, scum,” Kurapika spits out venomously.

“Did what?” Chrollo only says.

Kurapika lands a punch straight to Chrollo’s face. There’s a crunch as the man’s nose breaks.

Chrollo must be seeing stars, as the impact of the hit has smacked his skull against the wall behind him. Even so, he manages to speak through the blood flowing thick and hot over his teeth. “Within this lifetime, I’ve spearheaded or personally conducted more socially reprehensible actions than I can plausibly count. You’ll have to help me out and be a bit more specific here.”

“I’m talking about _this._ ” 

Kurapika unwraps the blanket that he’s brought and positions Pairo’s head on the table before Chrollo, who only stares down without any expression.

When Chrollo speaks, he only sounds bewildered. “You’re giving me grief about the scarlet eyes again? Hasn’t it been years since you last screamed at me over this same old story? Have you been doing nothing since then but encouraging this purposeless rage to fester in your system?”

These words warrant a blow to Chrollo’s throat. Chrollo coughs, flecking blood over the table, over Pairo’s face.

“Apologize to Pairo,” Kurapika commands. “Beg my friend for forgiveness.”

“Why should I? I don’t even remember killing this so-called Pairo.”

“Are you denying that you directed the genocide that took Pairo and my clan from me?”

“I'm just saying that this genocide — if that’s what you want to call it — was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Your clan was but a drop in the vast ocean of the Phantom Troupe’s enduring legacy. We’ve visited our chaos upon dozens of clans, upon hundreds of families. It’s logistically impossible to commit every life that we took to memory. As for this boy. . . .” Still bound by Chain Jail, Chrollo bends his neck to more closely examine Pairo’s head. “I don’t believe I’ve ever laid eyes on him. Or if I have, I’ve forgotten completely. Compared with the rest of the scarlet eyes — or yours, for that matter — this child’s eyes are cloudy, uncommonly dull. It doesn’t help that his physical features are so nondescript.”

With a roar of rage, Kurapika begins in earnest to pummel Chrollo with his fists.

In a shadowy corner of the cabin, Hisoka strokes his throbbing erection to the rhythm of his partner’s unmitigated violence. Hisoka snuffs out his lustful moans as much as he’s able, but neither Kurapika nor Chrollo pay an iota of attention to him. How can they, at this point?

Hisoka’s masturbatory bliss is interrupted when Kurapika abruptly halts in his assault.

Kurapika’s eyes are wide, mystified. “You’re _crying?_ None of the others cried when I beat them like this.”

“It’s all my fault,” Chrollo moans through a mouthful of blood. “I did this to my family.”

“Your family,” Kurapika repeats hollowly.

“I led this useless quest for revenge. I may as well have signed the warrants for my family’s deaths. I —”

The remainder of Chrollo’s sentence is drowned out in a groan as the Stake of Retribution suddenly sinks into his chest.

Kurapika is yelling now. “How dare you! How dare you mourn _your family_ when you shamelessly stole my clan from me! You refuse to apologize, and yet you have the audacity to blubber like this in front of me? Don’t be such a fucking crybaby!”

Kurapika jerks his right arm backward to withdraw the Judgment Chain, then dispatches the chain once more. He does this any number of times, effectively stabbing the shallow surface of Chrollo’s chest, over and over again. Blood is pooling gradually beneath Chrollo’s chair as his wounds gape wider.

Such beauty. What a bewitching display of brutality. With a satisfied sigh, Hisoka resumes whacking off in time to Kurapika’s stabbing motions. There’s something undeniably . . . _phallic_ about the Stake of Retribution, isn’t there? Perhaps Hisoka can convince his boyfriend to pierce him with the Stake the next time they have sex. Sure, the Judgment Chain can only be used in conjunction with Emperor Time, but some sacrifices need to be made in order to attain the pinnacles of pleasure, carnal or otherwise.

These fantasies are cut short when Leorio, of all people, barges inside the cabin. Hisoka stuffs his boner into his pants just before Melody enters behind Leorio. Tch, she probably utilized her amplified hearing sense to assist Leorio in locating this cabin after they discovered the 4th Prince’s headless corpse. Is the mission in the king’s quarters already over?

While Melody chooses not to intrude further upon the grisly scene, Leorio barrels right between Kurapika and Chrollo. With his back to the chained and severely injured Chrollo, Leorio defensively throws out his arms. 

Hisoka huffs in shock. Is Leorio actually _shielding_ Chrollo?

“Stop this, Kurapika,” Leorio says, his voice firm.

Kurapika is mottled all over with blood — both the gleaming vermilion and the drying maroon varieties. In all probability, Kurapika’s eyes see nothing beyond the crimson mist of bloodlust now. Despite this, the sight of Leorio instantly causes Kurapika to cease his attacks.

Kurapika lowers his right arm. “Stand aside. That bastard behind you is simply accepting the punishment he deserves. I’m acting in the name of justice here.”

“No.”

“Move. I don’t want to hurt you, Leorio.”

“You’re not going to hurt me. You’re physically incapable of hurting me, aren’t you?” Leorio grips Kurapika’s shoulders, stares deep into his scarlet eyes. “How long have you kept Emperor Time activated? Have you deactivated it even once today? Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now.”

Leorio’s face crumples, pained, but his voice is as determined as ever. “Of course it fucking matters! I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore! You’re not throwing away your life like this, not if I can help it! Deactivate Emperor Time. Do it now.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. This . . . whatever _this_ is, it isn’t you in the first place. You’re forcing yourself to turn into something you aren’t. Don’t become the monster you never were.”

“You have no idea who or what I am,” Kurapika says harshly. “What I've already done.”

“How can you even say that? Kurapika, I know you better than anyone. You're my best friend. You’re the person I care about most in the world. There are so many things weighing down your heart, but that doesn’t mean your heart isn’t big. I’ve seen it. I know there’s so much more to you than this. Deep down, you don't want to fight anymore. You don't want to hurt anyone anymore. Not even a Spider like him. So just stop this. You’re only hurting yourself now.”

After a long pause, Kurapika speaks, his voice soft. “You don’t understand. It's already too late for me, Leorio.”

“Listen to me. It's never too late for you. Never.” Unafraid of the red glare fixed on him, Leorio brushes back Kurapika’s blond bangs, then gently bumps their foreheads together. Leorio doesn’t break eye contact until, eventually, the vivid scarlet succumbs to a mild brown, and the chains vanish all at once.

Relieved, Leorio pulls Kurapika into a tight embrace. Kurapika hesitates for just a second then reciprocates, wrapping his arms around Leorio’s waist.

“Let’s get out of here. Okay, Kurapika?”

“Leorio, I. . . .”

Hisoka observes as the two of them stare silently at each other, with Kurapika looking ashamed and Leorio appearing simply confused as Kurapika refuses to move. Hisoka finally volunteers the information that Kurapika has been too proud to admit to anyone else. “Kurapika hasn’t fully recovered from his latest stint as an invalid. With Emperor Time deactivated like this, he barely has enough base strength to continue standing up, let alone walk anywhere with you.”

Terror crosses Leorio’s face, but he manages to stifle his instinct to lecture Kurapika. Without a word, Leorio sweeps up Kurapika in his arms and, carrying him bridal-style, marches out of the cabin. Melody follows them out, closing the door behind her.

Alone with Chrollo again, Hisoka nurses his deep disappointment over this anticlimactic, sputtering stop to the promising momentum of the day’s events. Instead of the explosive ending that he was expecting, he’s blue-balled yet again by a confrontation between Kurapika and Chrollo. If only that goody two-shoes didn’t get involved at such a crucial moment. . . .

“What in the world should I do with you?” Hisoka wonders aloud to Chrollo, who has slumped over his chair, crimson streaming from his mouth and from the smattering of holes over his heart.

“End me,” Chrollo groans. “I don’t want to be anymore.”

Hisoka wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Is this what the revered Danchou has been reduced to in the end? Begging for death?” Hisoka reaches into his pocket for what Kurapika once called an extremely advanced anniversary gift. Hisoka twirls the fountain pen around his long fingers and surveys Chrollo thoughtfully. “As you know, broken toys only bore me. But considering that you’ve already taken one of my lives before . . . I suppose, just this once, I can return the favor.”

With impeccable efficiency, Hisoka drives the fountain pen deep inside Chrollo’s skull. The man totters backward and drops to the floor with a massive thud.

Hisoka takes Pairo’s head from the table and, for a minute, lets the scarlet eyes stare down at Chrollo’s dark ones, lifeless now. “Will you look at that, Pairo? That despicable criminal murdered your family, your friends, and perhaps even you yourself. I feel nothing at all, so will you do me a favor and rejoice on my behalf?”

Unsurprisingly, no one responds. With the most delicate of sighs, Hisoka prepares to exit the cabin. Under his arm, Pairo’s head is swathed in a trench coat, still warm, collar and cuffs engulfed in fur.

In a mercifully empty room in the medical ward, as Leorio treats the cuts and bruises on Kurapika’s knuckles, Kurapika confesses everything he’s done. All the unspeakable crimes that he’s committed or facilitated against 4th Prince Tserriednich, against the other princes and their camps, against the members of the Phantom Troupe . . . every secret comes spilling out in front of the one person that he never intended to taint with his darkness.

“I pretended not to know her name, but I did,” Kurapika admits. “Machi. That was what she was called. Machi was a part of a family that cared about her, and yet I murdered her in cold blood. And I’m so deeply ashamed of what I’ve done. All those people I’ve threatened or tortured or permitted to die or killed with my own hands . . . I regret hurting them. I regret everything.”

Once Leorio finishes bandaging Kurapika’s hands, he hugs Kurapika tightly once more. He rubs Kurapika’s back and quietly listens to the continuing confessions, apologies, confessions, apologies. 

When Kurapika finally lapses into silence, Leorio murmurs, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay from now on. I’m here. If you forget who you are again, I'll remind you. I’ll say it as many times as necessary for the truth to sink in.”

Leorio’s body is so warm, his voice so gentle, his heartbeat so impossibly soothing . . . that despite all the nightmarish events that have occurred over the past two months — all the horrible things that Kurapika himself has done — Kurapika is beginning to believe what Leorio is telling him. Everything will be okay, and how can it not be, in a world where a person as precious and beautiful as Leorio still exists? 

Before Kurapika realizes what he’s doing, he’s crying against Leorio’s chest. Even though he hasn’t shed a single tear in seven years, he’s sobbing as uncontrollably now as he did as a small child.

Leorio is here. Leorio is holding him. Leorio is keeping all the monsters at bay.

Of course, Leorio, being Leorio — he takes one look at Kurapika’s crying face and commences bawling too, at the top of his lungs.

In spite of himself, Kurapika smiles at the familiar sight of Leorio’s scrunched-up face. He pats Leorio’s cheeks, shining with tears, with his newly bandaged hands. Grumbling in embarrassment over having undermined Kurapika’s sorrow with his own, Leorio buries his face in Kurapika’s hair. Leorio remains right there, for the time being. 

Even though Leorio has successfully reigned in his noisy sobs, Kurapika can still feel his lips trembling, the sticky heat of tears and snot soaking his blond hair. This sloppy, dripping sensation over his head . . . Kurapika can’t imagine tolerating this from anyone else in the world, but because it’s Leorio, Kurapika loves how it feels. Kurapika loves the way Leorio always embraces him too tightly like this. Kurapika loves —

“I love Leorio, don’t I?” Kurapika says, only inside his head. “Haven’t I been hopelessly in love with Leorio this whole time? Even though his face must be a mess right now, I wish I could stare at it forever. How can I not adore his face, his body, his strong arms, his pure heart . . . every single part and angle and facet of him?”

Just then, Kurapika hears Pairo’s voice inside his head for the first time in weeks. “You’ve finally stopped lying to yourself, Kurapika? About time! How dense can you possibly be!”

“As dense as you were with me, Pairo,” Kurapika mumbles.

“What did you say?” Leorio asks, his lips still pressed against Kurapika’s hair.

“It’s nothing, Leorio.”

Kurapika wishes that he can let Leorio know about his newly confirmed feelings. Kurapika is dying to tell Leorio that he loves him, wants him, wants to date him, wants to hold his hands, wants to kiss each knuckle of his fists, wants to kiss his lips until they’re both breathless — Kurapika wants to run from cabin to cabin and implore everyone on this goddamn ship to listen to a litany of every blessed thing that he knows and cherishes about Leorio — but something holds back this deluge of emotions.


	40. Resigning to echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

In the end, it is the 14th and youngest prince who vanquishes the Succession War for good, ushering in this promising new era of peace, to be led by her eldest surviving sibling, the 9th Prince.

Kurapika doesn’t see any of this happen. But as the 8th Queen tells it, she’s never witnessed a more wondrous sight — the 14th Prince’s Nen beast swallowing its twin, the Seed Urn controlling the contract compelling the war. Even though the battle’s bindings can only ever be invisible, she _felt_ them dissolving from around her daughter’s wrists. She swears it.

Three days pass as Kurapika rests and recovers. For a time, he positions Pairo’s head by his bed, but Melody, noticing by Kurapika’s heartbeat the distress that it causes, takes it away for safekeeping.

Though all the other Hunters are looking forward to docking at the Dark Continent in a day’s time, Melody has instead elected to accompany Kurapika during his next mission. The two of them plan to sail back with the survivors of the Kakin royal family, including Queen Oito and Prince Woble, and their employees.

Once he has reunited Pairo’s head with its body, buried alongside the rest of his fallen brethren, Kurapika intends to enlist the help of a team of Hunters who are particularly skilled at tracking objects, the same way he is. Together, they can search for the scarlet eyes that the late 4th Prince scattered over the vast expanse of waters between the New Continent and the Dark Continent.

“Will Hisoka be returning with us, or moving on with the rest of the Hunters?” Melody inquires.

Kurapika sits up in bed. “Right, I have to talk to him about that. If he’s still hanging around the 14th Prince’s quarters, will you please send him in?”

“Are you ready to see him now?”

“Honestly, I still don’t feel like seeing anyone.” Except for one person, that is. But that one person hasn’t visited, and Kurapika isn’t about to ask for him. “There’s no point in continuing to put this off, however. I need to have this conversation with Hisoka, sooner or later.”

Sitting on a chair by Kurapika’s bed, Hisoka listens to the plans to scour the seafloor for the scarlet eyes.

Kurapika is rubbing his temple with his fingers. “I’m hoping that most of the eyes are still in their jars. If Prince Tserriednich separated them from their containers, then this task is going to be that much more troublesome. . . .”

Hisoka perks up. “Ooh, this is just like playing hide-and-seek, except underwater. I might even get to punch some sharks. Count me in.”

“No, you should move ahead with the other Hunters. The thrills that you’ve truly been craving are waiting for you in the Dark Continent. If you’re stuck searching for the eyes with me, you’ll only be bored.”

Hisoka leans forward on his chair. “I’ll never be bored. Not if I’m with you.”

“But you’re already bored with me, aren’t you? I know that I disappointed you during that last encounter with Chrollo. I was the one who dragged you into that game in the first place, yet I failed to follow through. I’m not surprised that you haven’t attempted to play with me since then.”

Hisoka shrugs. “Can you blame me? You obviously haven’t been in a playful mood lately. But once your health picks up again —”

“Let’s not keep lying to ourselves,” Kurapika tells him. “We both know that it’s over.”

Hisoka hesitates, then says, “You don’t want to play with me anymore.”

“Yes, I’m done with these games.”

“You want to break up.” It’s a statement, not a question. 

Kurapika nods in response.

Grinning in apparent amusement, Hisoka folds his arms over his chest. “I think I already know why you’re doing this, but I may as well indulge you and ask anyway. Why are we breaking up, Kurapika?”

“I’m in love with Leorio,” Kurapika says simply. “I’ll always love him, so there’s no point in being with anyone else from now on. If I can’t be with him, then I’m fine being alone.”

Hisoka’s grin only widens. “So the truth has finally come out. Took you long enough to get there.”

“I’m sorry, Hisoka.”

“Hey, who’s complaining? I don’t regret anything that happened between us. It was thoroughly entertaining — watching you struggling against your endless cycle of self-sabotage, torturing yourself repeatedly with me, trying any damn thing to deny to yourself that you could ever feel anything as pointless and as fanciful as love.”

“I admit that I was embarrassingly slow to arrive at this particular epiphany,” Kurapika says. “By the time that I realized how I felt about Leorio, I was already too late. He’s happy with someone else now. And she’s good to him — good _for_ him — as far as I can tell.”

“But of course.” Hisoka is snickering as he stands up from his chair. “If you’re going to deprive me of the best sex of my life, you deserve to be blue-balled as well. It’s only fair.” 

Hisoka moves toward the door, then turns around at the last moment. “I’ll write to you from the Dark Continent. You’d better write back.”

Kurapika raises his eyebrows. “How are you even planning to accomplish that? Does the Dark Continent have a mysterious mailing system that I haven’t heard about?”

“Oh, shut up. If I want it to happen, I’ll make it happen somehow. I’ll bombard you with letters of my heart-pounding adventures and photos of scary monsters so that you won’t be able to resist visiting the place yourself someday.”

Kurapika smiles at him. “If I ever do, I’ll be sure to look you up.”

Hours from the Black Whale’s expected arrival at the Dark Continent, Kurapika finally regains enough strength to stand up on his own. Of course, the first place he visits is the medical ward. He wants to see Leorio, his favorite person in the world, for what may very well be the last time.

Leorio is away, finishing his final rounds of the voyage, so Kurapika waits for him at the ward’s entrance. Kurapika quietly observes Cheadle as she works behind the front counter. She doesn’t say a word to him, and neither does he.

When Leorio returns, face sweaty and expression subdued, Kurapika’s heart leaps in his chest, and he leaps up from his chair too.

“Eh. . . .” Leorio is lost for words at the sight of Kurapika being so sprightly again.

“Leorio, are you free to talk?”

Leorio glances at the front counter, then nods at Kurapika.

Once they’re alone, Kurapika explains his intentions to search for the remaining scarlet eyes with Melody.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Dark Continent with us?” Leorio asks him. “Even for a little bit? I’m only planning on staying with the others for a year, then I’m heading back to medical school.”

“No, I need to do this. I have to finish my hunt as soon as possible.”

“Kurapika, you’ve been hunting for the eyes nonstop for the past two years. Come on, you deserve a break!”

“A break is the last thing I can afford right now,” Kurapika tells him. “Who even knows how much time I have left?”

Leorio looks momentarily stricken, then says fiercely, “Don’t talk like that. Don’t you dare. I don’t want to think about it, so don’t go beating yourself up about it either.”

“I’m not being pessimistic. Just pragmatic. There’s no point in denying the damage that I’ve already done in this one voyage alone. I need to make the most out of the remainder of my time. So before I die —”

Looking extremely agitated, Leorio turns to go. Kurapika steps forward and hugs Leorio hard, hugs him close so that he can’t get away. But Leorio refuses to hold him in return.

“I apologize,” Kurapika says softly. “If this is upsetting you, I’ll stop talking about it.”

Leorio’s voice is teeming with emotion. “How can it not upset me? I _hate_ this, Kurapika! I hate this so much!”

“I know. I’m sorry, Leorio. I just came to say goodbye, not to ruin your day. Just let me hold you, okay? Even if you hate me right now, please do this for me.”

Leorio maintains a stony silence as Kurapika squeezes him tightly. Unbeknownst to Leorio, Kurapika is trying to imprint the rhythm of Leorio’s heartbeat in his brain. The days ahead will be difficult, no doubt, but perhaps the warmth of this remembered sound will be enough to sustain Kurapika through every struggle.

“Look,” Leorio says after a minute, “I should probably get back. Cheadle will wonder where I am.”

“Okay.” Kurapika forces himself to let go, to resign himself to these echoes. “Goodbye, Leorio. Please take care of yourself always. This time on the Black Whale with you means more to me than you will ever know.”

Leorio doesn’t meet Kurapika’s eyes as he himself mutters a brusque farewell. Leorio walks off like he can’t wait to be alone.

It’s sheer torture for Kurapika to see Leorio, his love, leaving him behind. Kurapika keeps watching as Leorio walks away, hoping against hope that he will turn back and wave, but he doesn’t.

Melody has also been wrapping up some business in the third tier, so she and Kurapika head back to the first tier together.

After a strangely awkward stretch of silence, Kurapika speaks up. “What is it? You keep throwing me these glances as if you have a million questions on your mind.”

“Maybe so, but you don’t want to hear my questions anyway.”

“I want to hear them. Why else am I bringing this up? Listen, I’m aware that I’ve been unreasonably difficult with you lately, but I’m trying to make up for that, all right?”

With this encouragement, Melody launches into her interrogation. “Are you sure that was the right decision? Leaving things like that with Leorio? Do you really want him to remember you this way?”

“You were listening in? That conversation was private, Melody.”

“I’m sorry, but I had no choice except to invade your privacy this time. It was the mildest breach of many unsavory alternatives, believe me. There are so many — too many — couples who are taking full advantage of the closed doors and the proper beds before they all have to disembark at the Dark Continent. I can even hear Basho with — _oh._ Never mind. Forget I mentioned anything.”

Kurapika shakes his head ruefully. “Even Basho, huh? That’s too bad. I could have used the distraction.”

“Why do you need any distractions at this point? You’re in love with Leorio, aren’t you? What’s the harm in letting him know?”

“Don’t tell me. You were listening in on my conversation with Hisoka too?” But Kurapika sounds more exasperated than seriously offended.

“It’s difficult not to eavesdrop when the two of you are right there, just on the other side of the door. Besides, I didn’t learn anything from that conversation that I didn’t already know. I knew that your relationship with Hisoka was only a game for him and a convenient escape for you, so it was only a matter of time before either of you ended it. I also knew that you viewed Leorio in a romantic light, long before you discussed the matter with Hisoka.”

“Ah, let me guess. My treacherous heartbeat gave me away.”

“Indeed,” Melody confirms. “Your mind might have lied to you, but your heart has always been remarkably honest. In fact, I had detected early hints of your budding feelings for Leorio as far back as two years ago. But that time after you returned from your checkup in the medical ward for your back injury . . . that was the moment I knew for certain that it was love.”

Kurapika thinks back to that time. “Yes, I can see why that would be the definitive tipping point. That day was special to me. Unforgettable, really. But I’ll be considerate and spare you the details.”

“I’ve never heard your heart pounding so passionately — so expressively — before or since. And that told me everything I needed to know.”

“If you were aware of how I felt all this time, why didn’t you just talk to me about it? You could have saved me a lot of trouble.”

“I wanted you to come to terms with your feelings out of your own volition,” Melody tells him. “Otherwise, how can I ever trust you with a heart as rare as Leorio’s?”

Kurapika sighs. “I can never deserve a heart as rare as Leorio’s.”

“Now that’s not true at all. There’s a good reason that both Leorio and I never gave up hope in you, you know?”

“Melody . . . do you think I can change? It really isn’t too late for me?”

Melody looks at him carefully. “What do _you_ think?”

Kurapika furrows his brows. “I think . . . it doesn’t matter if it’s too late or not. I have to try. I want to be better. I _need_ to be better.”

“I’ve always believed in you. It’s about time that you started believing in yourself too.”

Kurapika takes a deep breath. “That type of confidence in myself . . . it might take a while. But I’ll get there eventually, maybe.”

“I’m here, okay? I’m with you. You don’t have to do any of this on your own.”

“Thank you, Melody. You’re a wonderful person, a wonderful friend. I’ll work as hard as I can to be a better person for you. And for myself too.”

Kurapika reaches for her hand and squeezes it. Before he can let go, Melody squeezes his hand in return. 

They continue walking like that, hand in hand, not caring who might see them or who might misinterpret this connection they share.


	41. Melting together, wrenching apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

For the first time in five years, Cheadle convenes a meeting of the Zodiac Twelve, held in the usual conference room. Although a fourth of the Zodiacs remains in the Dark Continent, the rest have by now returned.

Owing to his nerves, Leorio shows up at the headquarters of the Hunter Association a full fifteen minutes before the assigned meeting time. Pyon, who was among the first set of Zodiacs to leave the Dark Continent, is also one of the first to arrive at the reassembly. She’s listening in as Botobai and Ginta trade stories about their separate encounters with the infamous Five Threats, but upon sighting Leorio, she immediately bounces over to claim the seat to his right.

Pyon now fires off a series of questions, and Leorio endeavors to answer each one. In this manner, he ends up sharing practically his entire life story since the day he parted with her.

Leorio tells Pyon that he only spent a year in the Dark Continent, in accordance with his original plans. He moved to the New Continent, where he enrolled in the top medical university in the region to complete the remainder of his schooling. Because his time under Cheadle’s mentorship was credited as a part of his studies, he was permitted to graduate at an accelerated pace. He cleared his licensure exams easily enough, then continued to work at the same New Continent hospital where he completed his internship.

When Cheadle finally left the Dark Continent to return full-time to her duties as Chairman of the Hunter Association — Mizaistom served as Acting Chairman while Cheadle was away — Leorio decided to come back with her.

“You’re still with Cheadle, then?” Pyon asks. “I have to admit, I always thought your relationship was sort of strange. But if it works, it works, right? Especially if it’s lasted this long.”

“No, Cheadle and I broke up before I left for the New Continent.”

Pyon’s eyes are sparkling. “I’m guessing there’s a juicy story behind that.”

“Not really. It was just. . . .” Something was missing. Nothing ever felt right. “The timing was wrong. But we’re still good friends. You know Cheadle. She’s the best. I respect the hell out of her, and I always will.”

“You’re being super mature about it, huh?”

Leorio shrugs. “It was a long time ago. But how about you, Pyon? Do you —”

Pyon waggles her index finger at him. “Nuh-uh! It’s your turn on the hot seat! I won’t let you wriggle away from my questions!”

“Well, what else do you want to know? I can’t wait to get off this hot seat. . . .”

“Since you got back, what’s been keeping you busy?”

Leorio tells her that, for around two months now, he’s been working as a Disease Hunter at the public hospital located closest to the headquarters. Within a week, he effortlessly befriended everyone at the hospital, but that was only because every single person — each colleague, superior, nurse, and staff member — was cheerful and welcoming without fail.

“Isn’t that because it’s you, Leorio? Even back when you were a Rookie, your charisma boosted you to the top of the rankings and almost won you the title of Chairman.”

“Charisma . . .?”

At this point, Leorio hears a scraping noise close by. He turns and sees that Gel has arrived to claim the seat to his left.

Ah! Leorio wanted to save a seat next to him for —

No, this unexpected development is for the best, isn’t it? As people always say, everything happens for a reason.

As Leorio is still dwelling on this, Kurapika and Mizaistom enter the conference room together.

At the sight of Kurapika, everything instantly comes rushing back. Even though Leorio repeatedly reminded himself not to make things weird with Kurapika today. . . . Even though he spent all night practicing the suave lines of Leorio 2.0 in front of the bathroom mirror. . . .

Try as he might, Leorio can’t help what’s going through his mind. Kurapika still looks like a dream come true. He’s even more gorgeous now than he was five years ago, if that’s even possible. And most importantly, he looks healthy and fit. The way he fills out that impeccably-ironed powder blue button-down shirt and dove gray suit. . . . Leorio finds himself wondering whether he should also invest in more blue button-downs, more gray suits.

The next thing Leorio notices is that Kurapika and Mizaistom appear closer than ever. Leorio knows he shouldn’t care. Wasn’t it Leorio’s own decision to distance himself? But even after all this time, it still causes him a twinge of annoyance to watch Kurapika and Mizaistom acting like the best of friends. 

Mizaistom leans in and whispers something into Kurapika’s ear — close enough that his breath stirs Kurapika’s earring — and Kurapika nods in response.

Despite the rising and falling of a variety of tones in the conference room, Leorio listens hard for Kurapika’s voice, as familiar to Leorio as the back of his own hand. He just about makes out Kurapika’s reply to Mizaistom.

“Sure, Mizai,” Kurapika is saying. “Let me know what happens later, and I’ll do the same for you.”

With this, Mizaistom goes to sit beside Cheadle, who is at her usual place at the head of the table. Kurapika, on the other hand, goes around the conference room to politely convey his greetings to every member present. 

As Kurapika acknowledges Gel, Leorio steels himself. But Kurapika skips over Leorio and addresses Pyon first. 

“Pyon, would you be so kind as to allow me to take your place? I need to speak to Leorio about something important.”

Pyon hesitates, then gives up her seat. She heads over to the other side of the table, and while she keeps her eyes on Leorio and Kurapika, she doesn’t say a word.

Kurapika sits on the chair to Leorio’s right and finally looks Leorio in the eye. “Leorio, it’s been a long time.”

Kurapika’s gaze is undeniably intense. He’s not wearing contacts, Leorio notices.

Leorio forces out an awkward laugh. “It’s been too long! We should have caught up sooner! Why are we only doing this now?”

“I know. I’ve been desperate for a chance to catch up with you, ever since I heard the news of your return. I repeatedly emailed the Chairman, reminding her to hold this meeting sooner rather than later. I even pestered Mizai to pester her about it. I would have done anything for an opportunity to see you again, Leorio.”

Leorio feels like it’s hard to breathe as Kurapika tells him such things, bluntly, with an utterly serious expression.

“So where do you live now?” Kurapika inquires. “Which area?”

Leorio tells him.

“Do you live alone, or are you married?”

“Married? Me?!”

“You’re not married? I see.” Over the table, Kurapika’s white-knuckled grip relaxes. “But are you dating someone? Chairman Yorkshire, perhaps?”

Leorio can only stare, his mouth hanging open. Is this really happening? Is Kurapika asking him these extremely unsubtle questions, with no qualms whatsoever? Whatever happened to social niceties, to small talk? No, Kurapika was never one for small talk, was he?

After quietly surveying the shocked expression on Leorio’s face, Kurapika says, “I’ll take that as a no, then. We’re both single, it seems.”

Kurapika reaches for one of the file copies that Beans left at the center of the table for their perusal. As Kurapika does so, his hand not-so-accidentally skims over Leorio’s.

Once the meeting has concluded, Leorio walks off in a daze. 

Wow. He didn’t hear a goddamn word that Cheadle said during that entire time, did he? The golden presence on Leorio’s right was simply too overwhelming for him to comprehend anything else going on.

One second, Leorio is walking alone, then the next second, he’s got company.

Kurapika has caught up with him. “Leorio, why did you leave so fast? I wanted to talk to you some more.”

“Sorry, I have to head back to the hospital. Lots of, you know. . . .” Leorio’s voice trails off.

“Wounds to patch, lives to save,” Kurapika finishes for him. “I understand. At least allow me to walk you to the exit.” Kurapika pauses, perhaps to give Leorio enough time to object to his company, but Leorio doesn’t. “So where exactly are you working now?”

Leorio tells him the name of the hospital. “I’m assigned to trauma surgery, currently.”

Kurapika’s eyes widen. “So close. All this time, you were so close by. I work here at the headquarters, you know. Well, to be more accurate, I travel back and forth, but half the time, I’m right here in this building. I’m heading the Reform Committee for the Hunter Bylaws.”

Leorio already knew about this, actually. In an unshakable bout of curiosity, he asked around about his ex-best friend. But he still pretends to be surprised by this revelation.

Kurapika is silent for the rest of their brief walk toward the exit. But before Leorio can make it out the doorway, Kurapika speaks up.

“Leorio? I’d like to see you again, as soon as possible. Is that okay with you?”

Before he even realizes what he’s saying, Leorio is blurting out an eager assent. And even though this response was wholly unplanned, he can’t bring himself to regret it when Kurapika smiles at him — a smile so unguarded that Leorio’s brain temporarily disconnects from his body. 

Leorio can’t think of a single blasted word to say, but maybe no words are needed between them at this point. His arms reach forward, as if on autopilot, to pull Kurapika toward him. 

At first there’s a jagged intake of breath from the body that Leorio presses against his chest, as well as a startled rigidity, then Kurapika seems to _melt_ against him. Leorio can’t explain it, but — beyond just muscles relaxing and heartbeat slowing to a more measured rhythm, beyond the arms that Kurapika wraps around Leorio’s waist as a categorical communication of tactile reciprocation, beyond the warm breath and the soft rumble of a groan of satisfaction, beyond the brown gaze that Kurapika directs upward to meet Leorio’s own and the consequent fish-like flop inside Leorio’s rib cage, perhaps the most pleasurable of palpitations — Kurapika is _melting_ more into Leorio with every millisecond of contact, and it physically pains Leorio to wrench their bodies apart again.

The next day, Leorio is walking toward the nurses’ station at the emergency department to ask whether anyone has seen a missing page from his patient’s medical history, when a recognizable pulse of aura in the air stops him in his tracks. Leorio begins to sneak away, but he’s already too late. 

Perhaps sensing Leorio’s presence in the same way, someone leaning over the counter at the station whirls around to confront Leorio’s retreating back. The person calls Leorio by name, so of course he can no longer escape.

Yesterday, Kurapika declared his intentions to see Leorio again, as soon as possible, and here he is now making good on that claim. Spilling over Kurapika’s arms are flowers of a species that Leorio is certain he’s never laid eyes on before, buttery yellow and dewdrop fresh, effusing the second sweetest scent to ever reach Leorio’s lungs.

Of course, the unrivaled sweetest scent is a specific brand of shampoo, a fragrance that Leorio recently inhaled for the first time in years as he stood by the exit of the Hunter Association’s headquarters.

Kurapika speaks first. “I understand that you’re very busy, Leorio, engaged as you are in one of the most noble professions known to mankind. I only hoped to brighten your day, even by the slightest degree, with this modest bouquet.” Flashing a brilliant smile, Kurapika holds out the flowers, which Leorio takes into his own arms.

“Um, thanks, Kurapika.” Leorio tries to ignore the nurses who are staring in wide-eyed wonder at this scene unfolding before them, seemingly stolen from a grand romantic drama and shoved unceremoniously into a drab public hospital setting, stinking of antiseptic and bleach.

“I also wanted to extend an invitation to dinner. Would you happen to have some free time tonight?”

“Well. . . .”

The occupants of the nurses’ station are silently mouthing for Leorio to accept, with the most excited nurse jumping up and down and wildly waving his arms. He’s probably had too much caffeine, this one.

“My shift ends at eleven,” Leorio admits, apologetic.

This doesn’t deter Kurapika at all. “Excellent. I can think of a number of 24-hour restaurants that you might enjoy. Would you care to join me for a late dinner?”

“If you’re willing to wait that long for me, then I don’t see why not.”

“For you,” Kurapika murmurs, stepping forward, “I’m willing to wait as long as necessary.” 

Are they still talking about dinner? Kurapika’s stare is as intense as it was the day before, and Leorio almost feels light-headed from holding his breath.

Kurapika’s eyes wander downward now. “By the way, Leorio, are you aware that a piece of paper is stuck to the back of your coat?”

“Eh? On my back . . .?” Leorio spins around, attempting to check it out, but rather than accomplishing this desired objective, he only ends up looking like a demented dog chasing its own tail.

“Wait. Stop spinning. Let me help you.” 

Leorio doesn’t quit twirling about foolishly, so Kurapika’s hands dart forward to grab Leorio’s hips and steady him.

Leorio can tell that Kurapika isn’t trying to be inappropriate in public — if anything, Kurapika only appears interested in preventing Leorio from further humiliating himself — but just the fact that Kurapika’s hands are firmly gripping Leorio’s hips in front of a besotted audience of nurses. . . . This entire situation causes Leorio’s face to flame up in the most conspicuous cherry imaginable.

With his eyes intently observing Leorio’s flushed face, Kurapika reaches around Leorio’s waist and plucks off the paper in question. He presents it to Leorio, their fingers brushing in the process. 

“Here you go,” Kurapika says. “I believe the staple snagged on a loose thread of your coat.”

Leorio sighs in relief as he examines the sheet. “This is the missing page I’ve been searching for. Thanks, Kurapika. You’re a lifesaver.”

“If not me, someone else would have pointed it out. But I’m glad that I got to it before anybody else.” Kurapika smiles up at Leorio’s face, which is stubbornly holding on to its furious blush. “I’ll be at the northern parking lot at eleven, ready to pick you up. Don’t forget about me, okay?”


	42. Red velvet strawberry shortcake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Leorio isn’t at all surprised that the story of Kurapika and his flowers travels fast from the nurses’ station. Alternately ignoring or waggling his eyebrows at his fellow residents’ jabs about his swoon-worthy and blatantly enamored suitor, Leorio dashes through his final clerical duties for the day at record speed. He then rushes into the staff bathroom and jumps into the shower to wash off all his workday muck.

Fortunately, there’s a spare set of clothes in Leorio’s locker, which consists of a crumpled white button-down shirt and navy slacks a size too tight, back from a time when he worked out with much less faithful regularity. Could be a lot better, but nothing’s worse than showing up to a date in blood-flecked scrubs, right?

At eleven on the dot, Leorio races toward the parking lot. Kurapika is already there, leaning on his car and flipping through a pocket book as he waits. When Leorio arrives at his side, Kurapika closes the book and opens the door to the passenger’s seat.

Kurapika might have mentioned knowing an array of 24-hour restaurants, but Leorio never expected the eventual choice to be quite this romantic.

As Kurapika gazes at Leorio’s face over rosewood-scented candlelight, Leorio is determined to stare at literally anything except Kurapika’s eyes. Leorio already knows how prone he is to losing his train of thought whenever _that_ happens.

Leorio focuses his attention on the mini ceramic pot on the table between them, which carries a cluster of tiny-petalled blooms. Leorio starts, remembering something.

“Ah, Kurapika, about your flowers. . . .”

“Yes?” Kurapika prompts.

“After you left, I took the flowers with me when I dropped by to check on a patient. She was an old woman, fuzzy and all due to a combination of dementia and anesthesia. She thought I was her son, thought I brought her the flowers to cheer her up, so. . . .”

“So you couldn’t say no,” Kurapika says gently. “I understand perfectly. If those flowers brightened not only your day but also your patient’s, then I couldn’t be happier.”

“Really? Even though you got those flowers for me?”

“I can always get you more.”

“You don’t have to,” Leorio tells him. “No offense, but I’m not a flowers type of guy anyway.”

“I’ll take note of that from now on. Are you at least a food type of guy?” Kurapika gestures toward the delicacies that the waiter is now setting over the table.

“Hell yeah!”

Without further ado, they both dig in.

Leorio’s enthusiasm is only slightly dampened by the awareness that every selection in sight is a known aphrodisiac. Kurapika can perhaps be blamed for choosing this specific restaurant, but it’s not like he can control its unconventional menu, which only appears to feature dishes aggressively catered to romantic couplings.

Like Pyon did the day before, Kurapika asks Leorio to update him on what has been going on in his life.

“So you’re a Disease Hunter,” Kurapika says once Leorio has finished explaining everything. “That sounds perfect for you. You know, that friend of yours, the one you told me about during the first phase of the Hunter Exam —”

“Pietro.”

“Yes. If Pietro could look at you now, I’m sure that he’d glow with immense pride, seeing this altruistic and honorable man that you’ve become.”

Leorio shyly scratches his nape. “Eh . . . forget about that for a moment. What happened to your hunt, Kurapika?”

“I managed to retrieve and bury most of the scarlet eyes that Prince Tserriednich discarded during the voyage. Unfortunately, a number of the eyes were permanently lost, most likely swallowed by sea creatures or eroded into nothingness by natural elements.”

Leorio winces. “Damn, that sucks.”

“Indeed. But all things considered, that hunt could have gone much worse. I’ve now scoured both lands and seas to bring my family’s scattered remains together again. The mission wasn’t an unqualified success, to be sure, but it was far from a failure. And I owe all that to the invaluable assistance of Melody and a team of trackers.”

“Ah, how’s Melody been doing these days? Okay, I hope?”

Kurapika smiles. “She’s doing better than okay. She’s undone her curse.”

Leorio gapes. “Seriously? That’s awesome! How’d she do it?”

“You see, once I wrapped up the hunt for the scarlet eyes, I appointed Melody as the boss of the Nostrade family before leaving again to look for the Sonata of Darkness. Melody had been searching for it for so long, and after everything that she’d done for me, I was determined to return the favor. I soon found the Sonata’s source, and Melody and I destroyed it together.”

Leorio just stares. Kurapika has certainly been up to _a lot_ these past five years, hasn’t he? Leave it to him to maximize every minute. “Are you and Melody still with Nostrade, then?”

“We are. Since I first took the helm, I always sought to divorce the business of Nostrade from its unsavory beginnings among mafia circles. Under my strict supervision, the Nostrade family derived its income solely through fully legitimate sources in the gaming and private security industries. These ongoing restructuring efforts fell apart while Melody and I were away, but Melody got everything back on track soon enough. She still serves as Nostrade’s _de jure_ head, while I continue to furnish advice and support to the upper echelon.”

“Then you’re working with Nostrade, while also working on the reform initiative at the Hunter Association. . . .”

“I’m also sitting on the Association’s Disciplinary Committee,” Kurapika adds. “Mizai, who chairs the Committee, invited me to join. I thought it might be interesting, so I accepted.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a hectic life, to say the least.”

“Hmm . . . not as hectic as your long hours in the hospital, I’d imagine. I’ve even managed to set aside time to attend night classes at a nearby law school.”

Leorio’s jaw drops in awe. “Law school? Then you’re going to be a lawyer too, on top of everything else?”

“That’s the goal. I intend to follow your lead and work _pro bono_ , of course. I do possess an ability that equips me with a significant advantage over certain functions that prosecutors and judges have to perform.” Kurapika holds out his right hand over the table. His chains materialize, and the Dowsing Chain dangles down from his ring finger.

Leorio stiffens as unpleasant memories come flooding back. “Um, I don’t know about this, Kurapika.”

“Given all the shit that I’ve pulled with these chains in the past, I understand your reservations completely. But the good thing about the Dowsing Chain is, along with the Holy Chain, its ability can function almost perfectly even without activating Emperor Time.”

Upon hearing those last two words, Leorio flinches violently. 

“I haven’t activated Emperor Time in four years, Leorio,” Kurapika quietly assures him.

But this information only causes Leorio to fret even more. “Then don’t tell me — were you recklessly using Emperor Time for a _full year_ after we separated on the Black Whale?!”

“No, that’s not quite what happened. I could search for the scarlet eyes just as easily using the default mode of the Dowsing Chain, but that wasn’t the problem. The truth was . . . Emperor Time had fundamentally broken within the last week or so of the Succession War. It got to the point where I was using it — abusing it — so frequently that I would instinctively activate it in response to even the slightest stimuli, then struggle, sometimes for hours, to deactivate it afterward. The last time you saw me with my eyes scarlet — that was the last time I ever used Emperor Time _on purpose_. Even so, it took arduous effort to restore calm to my careening impulses, to regain a sense of self-discipline. . . .”

Leorio buries his face in his hands and groans. “A year. A goddamn year.”

“I had it more or less under control in a few months, but I slipped numerous times after that point. I could have done a lot better, but if I had continued with my trajectory of overuse during the war, then I definitely wouldn’t be alive today.”

Leorio feels Kurapika’s hand rubbing his shoulder in a soothing manner. The chains have vanished again, Leorio notices.

“I’m sorry for always worrying you like this,” Kurapika says softly. “It’s a shitty thing to do to my favorite person.”

Leorio’s voice is muffled against his palms. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

“I do mean it this time.”

Leorio finally stops hiding his face. He reaches up to pat the hand that still caresses his shoulder. Seeing that Leorio’s mood has stabilized somewhat, Kurapika withdraws his hand.

“You’ve really been good for the past four years?” Leorio presses. “Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise. Considering everything that happened during the war, and the state that I was in when it ended, I just _had_ to make a change. I couldn’t keep going on that same way.”

“That must have been a huge wake-up call, huh?”

Kurapika nods. “Exactly that. Back then, I believed that it was too late for me, but this sweet person snapped me out of the depths of my despair. He reminded me that I could be more than what I was settling for. And I swore to myself that, no matter what, I had to live long enough to thank him personally. So . . . thank you, Leorio.” Kurapika is staring intently into Leorio’s eyes, as if attempting to convey the profound meaning behind these simple words of gratitude.

“Don’t mention it, Kurapika. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“You know, I thought it was a touch ironic when you called me a ‘lifesaver’ earlier. That’s literally who you are, who you were always meant to be.”

Leorio’s hand jumps to the back of his neck again — a habit borne out of his tendency to frequently stumble into embarrassing moments. “Don’t you think you’re idealizing the medical profession too much? I mean, we’re just people too.”

“Maybe so, and I can’t speak for every patient in the world, but I can speak for myself. I know with 100% certainty that my encounter with this kind, intelligent, attractive nurse — who’s now a resident assigned to trauma surgery — convinced me that I wasn’t too far gone to seek help. So that’s what I did.”

Leorio is struggling to sustain the conversation despite Kurapika’s lavish heaps of praise upon him. “You’re seeing a therapist, then?”

“I searched for a long time for someone suitable for me. As it turns out, that part was even harder than hunting for the eyes. You know how proud I am. You know how stubbornly I’ve held on to my self-sufficiency.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Leorio has experienced no shortage of dealing with _that_ side of Kurapika. “But you did find someone right for you, eventually?”

“Eventually. I was fortunate. Each time I wanted to give up, I had friends who spurred me on through every moment of doubt.”

“Like Melody and Mizaistom?”

“Right,” Kurapika says. “Gon, Killua, and Alluka too. Those three may be traveling the world as we speak, but they don’t feel far away from me at all. I can always reach them with the simple click of a button. I do meet up with them personally whenever they happen to be close by. Who knows, I might even join them on an adventure at some point, once I’ve secured my license to practice law.”

There’s something that Leorio needs to bring up now. Something that has been gnawing at his conscience this whole time. “Kurapika, I . . . I should have been there too. To support you. If a part of you will always hate me for pulling that disappearing act on you, I get it. And I’m sorry.”

Kurapika shakes his head. “You were only chasing your dreams like the rest of us. I’d be the last person to resent you for that.”

“That doesn’t excuse the total radio silence from my end,” Leorio insists. “Even though I understood that you were having the worst time of your life. . . . Even though I told you that I’d be there for you, to keep reminding you that you’re a good person . . . I abandoned you instead. I never got back to you, never replied to your emails or letters. I deleted them — _burned_ them — before getting the chance to read them. . . .”

A short silence follows, then Kurapika says, “You never read _any_ of my messages?”

“Not one. I’m so sorry, Kurapika.”

Kurapika takes a deep breath. “Look, Leorio. I heard from Gon and Killua that you were safe, and that was good enough for me. Besides, I’m the one who should be apologizing here. I should have accepted long ago that the lack of replies from you could only mean one thing — you weren’t interested in maintaining any sort of connection. Our time together on the Black Whale was a lot for you, _too much_ for you.”

“That’s not true. I . . . I was just scared.”

“I’m aware that I scared you away. How could you not be turned off, after everything I did? Despite knowing this, I went so far as to brazenly lock down some alone time with you — you who, by omission, had made it abundantly clear that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“But I’m here right now,” Leorio says. “I accepted your invitation.”

“I made it hard for you to say no, didn’t I? How could you reject me when I asked you out publicly in your workplace, with an obnoxious bouquet of flowers that you gave away at the earliest opportunity?”

“Hey, I honestly found your flowers beautiful. I didn’t _want_ to give them away. Are you asking me to fight that old lady tooth and nail to get your bouquet back?”

But Kurapika doesn’t seem to hear this last joke. He’s gripping his fork and knife over the table and blinking rapidly. “Leorio, if I’m reading more into what was simply a perfunctory embrace from you yesterday, please let me know. I’ll respect your decision if you want a new life away from everything that happened five years ago. If I can never be a part of your life anymore — if that’s what you wanted all along — then I’ll suck it up, I’ll understand —”

“No! I _never_ wanted that!”

In his sudden burst of indignation, Leorio has shoved his chair backward, leapt to his feet, and slammed his palms down on the table’s surface, which causes all the cutlery and plates to jump. The couples sitting at the neighboring tables whip their heads around to watch them, perhaps itching for the melodrama of a lovers’ quarrel.

Leorio sheepishly takes his seat. His voice is back to its regular volume when he speaks again. “I — I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

“I’m sorry too. I was getting carried away, to put things lightly. We’re veering into sticky territory now. I believe that we need to, sooner or later, but this probably isn’t the best place for that. We can leave, if you want? Continue this conversation in a more private location?”

“No, no. We haven’t even finished eating.” Although his appetite has deserted him, Leorio picks up his fork again. “Maybe you can tell me about therapy. I want to hear all about it.”

“About therapy? Which part of it interests you?”

“What do you talk to your therapist about?”

Thoughtful now, Kurapika swills around the wine in his goblet, then takes a small sip. “I’ve been seeing my current therapist for close to three years now, so I’ve covered pretty much everything with them. They have a way of drawing out the stories that I’ve suppressed without even realizing it, or aspects of stories that I’ve denied or conveniently forgotten about. I’ve talked about my childhood, the war, the Phantom Troupe, the people the Troupe killed, people _I_ killed, all my regrets, all my maladaptive habits, Emperor Time. . . . Nothing is off-limits with them, really.”

“Wow.”

“If it’s difficult to go through these things on my own, it’s much harder for me to process them with someone else. Even so, I truly believe that my decision to actively seek therapy was the best one I’ve ever made. Most of the things my therapist told me, I already knew, at least on a surface level. I’d read all the books explaining why I was feeling the way I was feeling. However, I failed to internalize those concepts. The defenses that I’d built to protect myself were too high to hurdle on my own. Therapy helps me get around those walls.” Kurapika smiles. “I’m truly grateful that I’ve lived long enough to be where I am and who I am right now.”

“I . . . I’m so fucking proud of you, Kurapika.”

“I couldn’t have done any of it alone. It’s all thanks to you, to my friends, and to my therapist that I’m still here.”

“It’s _because_ you can say that while smiling that I feel so proud of you!” Leorio may be talking too loudly again, but the obvious joy in his tone no longer draws their neighbors’ attention. “See, I always knew you could turn things around! You did it! I was right!”

“Yes, you were right all along.”

“I don’t mean to gloat, but it makes me so freaking happy to see _you_ this happy!”

Kurapika quietly observes Leorio, then he says, “There it is. Right there.”

Leorio just looks blankly at Kurapika. He has no clue as to what Kurapika means by this.

“That sort of approving expression that you showed me just now, I tend to picture it whenever I’ve done something good,” Kurapika explains. “Even for the smallest successes, I imagine you smiling at me like that. I’ve made this peculiar habit of it.” Kurapika rubs his chin contemplatively. “I hope you won’t take offense, but picturing your distinctive crying face is just as helpful, if not more. Whenever I’m sorely tempted to activate Emperor Time, I imagine you crying. It’s a surprisingly effective trick to discourage myself from giving in to my baser instincts.”

“Eh. . . .” Leorio is so stunned that he genuinely can’t think of anything intelligent to say.

“Sorry, this must all sound exceedingly creepy. I shouldn’t have mentioned something so strange.”

“Not creepy!” Leorio swiftly corrects, as he feels his face heating up again. “It’s . . . flattering, I guess? I’m surprised that you think of me that often, even when I’m not there.”

“Surprised? I’ve sent you so many messages, and you’re still surprised? Leorio, I think about you all the goddamn time.”

By now, Leorio’s face must be redder than this slice of red velvet strawberry shortcake, half-eaten on his plate.

Kurapika is inching his hand across the table toward Leorio’s. Leorio stares, transfixed, as Kurapika finally closes the distance. Kurapika’s fingertips glide over the back of Leorio’s hand, stroking the subtle discoloration of veins, then dip into the interstices between Leorio’s fingers. Kurapika lightly rubs against the interdigital folds — such minuscule patches of skin, and yet shockingly sensitive. Who would have guessed? Leorio learns something wondrous and new every time Kurapika touches him, it seems.

“Is this okay, Leorio?” Kurapika asks. “Can I hold your hand?”

Leorio nods mutely.

Kurapika lifts Leorio’s hand from the table. His index finger traces circles over Leorio’s palm — smaller spheres slowly expanding into larger ones. Gently, he pulls Leorio’s hand to his lips. He plants a soft kiss over each of Leorio’s knuckles, gazing tenderly into Leorio’s eyes the entire time.

Leorio is frozen on the outside, but he’s freaking out on the inside. Argh! How can Kurapika even claim to be single?! There’s no way in hell that this guy isn’t breaking hearts all over the place, as effortlessly smooth as he is!

“I’m not hungry for food anymore,” Kurapika murmurs against Leorio’s hand. “How about you? Do you want to get out of here?”


	43. Unparalleled level, insurmountable plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

They’re both silent as Kurapika drives them to his house.

Fearful that the pounding of his heart is audible beyond his own ears, Leorio starts fiddling with the radio, twisting the dial from station to station.

Kurapika’s hand settles over Leorio’s on the dial. At first Leorio presumes that Kurapika is trying to stop him from generating all this unseemly crackling noise, but Kurapika waits until Leorio selects a station — one playing a jingle about laundry detergent, as if Leorio has only been coasting the airwaves to pinpoint this particularly screechy advertisement — before intertwining his fingers with Leorio’s. Kurapika then rests their joined hands over his own lap.

If Leorio’s heartbeat was loud before, it’s hammering to the high heavens now. Good thing that the catchy tune about detergent is followed promptly by a somber infomercial on pimple cream. God knows that it’s impossible to listen to anything else over the science of plugged follicles and pustules.

Leorio wants to tune into another station, but he doesn’t dare move an inch. He can’t bear to break away from Kurapika’s hold on his hand, especially when Kurapika is smiling so serenely, as if absolutely everything — inclusive of laundry detergent and pimple cream — is right in his world.

When they arrive at Kurapika’s place, Kurapika asks Leorio if he wants to have a cigarette first before heading in.

Leorio shakes his head. “I quit smoking a long time ago. Let’s get inside.”

“Impatient, are we?”

Leorio has been yearning for _years_ for this moment. Not even his nerves can hold him back from getting what he wants, now that they’re here. It’s Leorio who reaches for Kurapika’s hand this time. “Show me your bedroom.”

Kurapika leads Leorio there. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Kurapika stares up at Leorio, who remains standing in front of him.

“Do you want to, Leorio?”

Leorio pats Kurapika on the head. “What do you think? You think I came all the way here just to be your little spoon tonight?”

Kurapika licks his lips and starts to palm Leorio’s crotch over his slacks. “You can change your mind whenever you want, okay?”

Enough of this preamble. Leorio bends over to peel off Kurapika’s clothes, layer by layer, greedy as can be to see all of Kurapika again. As Kurapika’s underwear is yanked from his legs, Leorio sighs in satisfaction. Finally. Fucking finally. 

Leorio pauses to drink in the sight of Kurapika — fully naked, fully open, equally eager for more — and feels his own building arousal straining against his boxers.

Leorio endeavors to strip off his own clothes as quickly as possible. As Leorio is fumbling with his socks, Kurapika reaches for a condom from his bedside drawer and rips the packet open with his teeth.

Kurapika pulls Leorio toward him by his now bare thighs. Using his lips, Kurapika sheathes the rubber over Leorio’s stiff cock.

Kurapika’s brown eyes glaze over as Leorio’s dick fills his mouth and hits the back of his throat. And that’s it. That’s enough to drive Leorio over the edge. As much as he might savor the sight and sensation of Kurapika sucking him off, Leorio feels like he might spontaneously combust if he can’t possess Kurapika as soon as possible.

Leorio shoves Kurapika down on the bed and jumps on top of him. He parts Kurapika’s legs so that he can prepare him for penetration.

The manifest hunger in Kurapika’s eyes, as Leorio scissors his fingers inside him to loosen him up, is rapidly wearing Leorio’s patience thin. Leorio buries his face against Kurapika’s neck in the hopes that this partial sensory deprivation can stem his growing need. 

No good. Kurapika’s soft gasping, as Leorio’s fingers insistently delve and spread him open, is only making Leorio’s erection ache.

Leorio meets Kurapika’s eyes again. “I can’t wait a second longer. I _have_ to have you. Right now.”

“I want you too, Leorio. Come on. Give it to me.”

Even though Leorio eases in as slowly as his boundless lust will permit him, Kurapika is _extremely_ tight. Leorio wants to weep from this pleasure — from this inimitable sensation of penetrating this beauty beneath him again, after years of being apart — but Leorio forces himself to cool down his overheated head. He needs to check on Kurapika first.

“I feel like I might be hurting you,” Leorio says. “Do you want me to pull out?”

Kurapika locks his ankles over Leorio’s back. “Don’t. Don’t pull out. I can take it.”

But there’s a certain class of breathlessness in Kurapika’s voice that casts doubt on this claim. Leorio examines Kurapika’s face in an attempt to detect possible flickers of pain.

Kurapika flashes a reassuring smile at him. “I’m okay, Leorio. More than okay. Feels so fucking incredible, feeling my tiny hole straining to fit how enormous you are.”

Leorio groans. “Stop that. I’m going to lose control if you talk dirty to me like that.”

“But that’s exactly what I want. I’m trying to get you to lose control and fuck me senseless. Am I that obvious?”

“Well, stop trying. I won’t feel good about this if I’m the only one feeling good.” Leorio reaches around to rub Kurapika’s lower back in a comforting manner. “What’s wrong, Kurapika? Talk to me.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just . . . a little rusty, shall we say? It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone inside me.”

“A long time? How long are we talking about here?”

Kurapika takes a second to think about this. “Eleven months, at least.”

Leorio stares, struggling to process this information. Almost a year . . .?

Kurapika smiles ruefully at Leorio’s obvious confusion. “Shocking for someone with libido like mine, I know. I just had other things in mind, I suppose.”

“Other things? Like what?”

“I’ve been painting pictures for the walls. Cooking dinner for friends. Learning to garden. Then for the past two months . . . working up the courage to ask out the owner of this gorgeous face.” Kurapika’s fingers stroke the dark scruff lining Leorio’s jaw. “You know, even if Chairman Yorkshire hadn’t caved in to my repeated requests to call that meeting, I would have found you somehow, sooner or later. I’ve been dreaming of holding you like this again.”

More than anything, Leorio wants to kiss Kurapika on the mouth at this moment, but he knows he shouldn’t. Kurapika wouldn’t want that, would he? When there’s kissing, there are feelings involved. That’s what Kurapika told him before.

Misinterpreting Leorio’s expression as a renewal of urgency, Kurapika’s legs squeeze around Leorio’s waist to encourage him. “Time to move, Leorio,” he murmurs. “Time to make us both feel good. I’m ready for you now.”

As requested, Leorio begins to move. Even though it’s been years, Leorio still remembers every sensitive spot inside Kurapika — each one eternally etched into his brain when he first was blessed with the opportunity to explore this exquisite body. Leorio is gratified as he sees Kurapika writhing underneath him, whimpering as Leorio thoroughly works him into submission with his cock.

While Leorio continues to rotate his hips, he sucks on Kurapika’s cute pink nipples, tonguing them until they harden. Leorio’s right hand then takes over, teasing the stiff nubs relentlessly.

Leorio lets his left hand travel to Kurapika’s hair, fisting the golden strands before he leans in to kiss Kurapika’s ear. Kurapika immediately tries to twist away his head, but Leorio won’t let him escape. With the tip of his tongue, Leorio traces every crevice, alternating between both ears. He observes in fascination as gradients of pink and red flood gradually over Kurapika’s face, soon seeping over to his neck.

Kurapika presses his lips together, but the pleasure peeps out from him before long, beyond his control. He gives up trying to hold himself back and moans openly. “Leorio! Too intense!”

“Should I stop?” Leorio mumbles against Kurapika’s ear.

“Nghh. No. Never stop. Will you keep doing this to me forever?”

“Forever,” Leorio repeats. The word drops like a stone from Leorio’s mouth, flips some buried switch in his head.

Leorio seizes Kurapika’s hips, and with a single twisting motion, turns him over to his stomach. Before Kurapika can even catch his breath — or catch up to this sudden change — Leorio begins nailing him roughly from behind.

The squishing noises of Leorio’s dick, as it brutally slides in and out of Kurapika’s ass, drown out every last rational thought in Leorio’s brain. Tight. So damn tight. Such delicious friction as Leorio crams his cock into this pinhole-narrow orifice that stretches obediently to accommodate his girth. Try as he might to repress it, Leorio can’t help a groan from escaping his lips every time he sinks inside.

Kurapika grips the sheets as Leorio pummels out cries from him with every forceful thrust. While Leorio enjoys these sexy sounds that Kurapika is making, he won’t rest until Kurapika is truly shouting for him.

Leorio slots a pillow underneath Kurapika’s torso to keep him in position before he shoves in again — harder and deeper now — and continues amping up the pace until Kurapika’s body is bouncing helplessly beneath this onslaught. Kurapika clutches the pillow for dear life as Leorio drills into him without mercy or respite.

There’s the screaming that Leorio has been waiting for. His name, loud and clear and desperate in Kurapika’s pretty voice. Kurapika is hoarse by the time he ejaculates, violently, against the pillow. 

Leorio bites down on Kurapika’s shoulder — not hard enough for the skin to bleed, but not soft enough that it probably won’t bruise later — just before he drives deep inside and comes to his own climax.

Lost in bliss, Leorio lies slumped over Kurapika, who is panting hard over the pillow. It takes a moment before Leorio finally achieves enough clarity of mind to tug out his cock, eliciting a weak hiss from Kurapika. Leorio sits up and flings his used condom into the trash can before he lies down again. 

With a dazed smile on his face, Kurapika scoots close to Leorio’s chest. “Amazing, Leorio. You’re a thousand times more amazing than I remember. I can’t comprehend how good you feel inside me. I want to go again. I want to keep going with you until the sun rises. Just give me a minute to ride out my high, okay?”

Kurapika presses his ear against Leorio’s heart, then says nothing more.

Leorio silently counts to sixty then checks on Kurapika, more than ready for that promised second round. But all of a sudden, Kurapika is sound asleep.

As he watches Kurapika’s peaceful slumber, Leorio’s mind wanders. Since leaving the Dark Continent, Leorio has made love to dozens of different partners — women, men, and those falling between or beyond such constraints. Sure, it was interesting, sometimes even fun, getting acquainted with such a rich variety of bodies. Feeling the texture of their hair. Surveying the canvas of scars on their skin. Listening as they giggled, as they grunted, as they goaded him into giving them more. 

Leorio got out there and tried, and tried, and tried. But nothing ever satisfied him. Not really. Not like this. Nothing can even come close. With Kurapika, the experience is just different, isn’t it? Leorio can’t explain it. Incomprehensible, as Kurapika called it. Kurapika’s body moves Leorio on some unparalleled level, on some otherwise insurmountable plane. Kurapika’s voice shouting his name hits Leorio’s ears in a different way. 

But can Leorio simply give in to these irrational feelings? Can he let himself get carried away like this, buoyed by the afterglow of their admittedly amazing sex?

Leorio gets up and puts on his clothes. He leaves without a backward glance.


	44. Beyond doors and dismantled defenses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature. Sexual content.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.

Leorio strides down the front walk leading to the street. Midway he halts as the glow of the streetlamp illuminates a familiar buttery hue, somewhere to his right. He finds himself wandering off the path, wanting to examine that incandescent color.

Yes, right here in Kurapika’s garden is the same species of yellow flowers that Leorio received this afternoon. He’s surrounded once again by the same honeyed scent, the second sweetest fragrance he’s ever known. Will Kurapika hate him, Leorio wonders, if he plucks a single bloom to tuck inside his pocket? Leorio has lost all the others, allowed them to slip away from his hands. 

No, he shouldn’t. Won’t it be too callous for Leorio to abandon Kurapika in bed, then go on to steal from his garden?

Leorio commands himself to walk away, but his body remains there, huddled amidst the spectrum of blossoms that Kurapika himself sowed and watered and coaxed from the earth.

Leorio closes his eyes and sighs. “What the hell are you doing?” he grumbles to himself, past gritted teeth. “Where in the world are you even going?”

Wherever Leorio intends to go — whichever direction it may be or diversion it may represent — can it really be more crucial than the place he’s leaving behind? That space on Kurapika’s bed which almost has his name on it, if he only dared to stake his claim on it?

Earlier tonight, Kurapika said that Leorio could change his mind. If Leorio changed his mind about staying, surely he can change his mind about leaving?

Leorio marches back toward the doorstep. He stands there, chastising himself. “Get a grip, Leorio! Is your pride or your fear really more important than this one thing you’ve always wanted but still haven’t gotten? You _know_ you want Kurapika to be by your side. You’ve both been through so much — together and apart. Kurapika . . . he’s different now. You can see it clearly, can’t you? He wants you in his life. He’s ready for you this time. You both deserve happiness, so why keep fighting this? You’ll be the biggest damn fool if you let him go again!”

Fired up now and desiring nothing except to hold Kurapika as tightly as possible, Leorio seizes the doorknob. But of course, as luck would have it, the door has automatically locked behind him.

What should Leorio do now? Should he sit down and wait? Knock? Ring the bell? Ring Kurapika’s phone? Does Kurapika even use the same number in the first place? Leorio may have technically lost Kurapika’s contact information when he switched phones a couple of years ago, but he’s called this number enough times to permanently engrave every digit in his brain.

Cursing at himself for creating this problem that never needed to happen, Leorio turns away from the door and dials that memorized number. He’s only just pressed his phone against his ear when the door bangs open behind him.

Leorio whirls around. There Kurapika is, bare flesh exposed to the night air, brown eyes wide in panic. He startles as he sees Leorio still hovering there, right outside his house.

Kurapika tackles Leorio, knocking the breath from Leorio’s lungs, and clings to him on the doorstep. Kurapika’s lips are quivering against Leorio’s chest, and Leorio’s heart squeezes painfully once he realizes that Kurapika is crying.

“Please don’t go,” Kurapika is mumbling thickly against Leorio’s button-down shirt. “Please. I love you. Please.”

Seeking to conceal Kurapika’s naked body from any strangers on the street, Leorio ushers Kurapika inside the house and shuts the door behind them. Once they’re back inside, Leorio makes Kurapika look at him directly.

“Say it again,” Leorio demands. “Say it to my face this time. I want to hear it.”

Not even attempting to conceal his tears, Kurapika looks Leorio in the eye and says it. “I love you, Leorio. I’ve loved you for the past seven years, and I’ll love you forever.”

Leorio grabs Kurapika’s face and crushes their lips together. Leorio’s heart flutters as Kurapika enthusiastically reciprocates the kiss. Kurapika is tugging on Leorio’s clothes, trying to get Leorio to bend a bit lower, closer to his height.

In response, Leorio pushes Kurapika’s back against the door and hitches up Kurapika’s bare legs to wrap them around his waist. Like this, from a much better vantage point, Kurapika rakes his fingernails over Leorio’s dark hair and devours Leorio’s lips again and again. Desire is darting down Leorio’s spine and pooling in his groin as Kurapika scratches at his nape and sucks on his tongue. 

Many minutes pass, then Kurapika’s mouth drifts away from Leorio’s to press a wet kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” Kurapika whispers. 

A kiss to the bristly hair on Leorio’s jaw. “I love you.” 

A kiss to the tip of Leorio’s nose. “I love you.”

Aching to taste Kurapika again, Leorio tries to recapture Kurapika’s lips with his own, but Kurapika tilts his head backward in order to throw out that pivotal question. He demands a clear-cut reply from Leorio now. “Do you still love me, Leorio?”

Rather than answering, Leorio carries Kurapika back to bed and lays him down over the sheets. Leorio gets on top of Kurapika and stares intently into his eyes.

After a minute of this, Kurapika furrows his brows and starts speaking fast. “Leorio, come on. I have to know. I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore. It’s been five years, after all. But if you just give me a chance, I can prove to you that I —”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Leorio interrupts. “ _Of course_ I love you. I’m so in love with you that it terrifies me. The idea of losing you is the single scariest thing I can imagine. Kurapika . . . I realize that you’ve already made your peace with the consequences of your bad decisions in the past. But I don’t know if I —” Leorio screws his eyes shut for a moment, willing himself not to cry. He feels Kurapika stroking his face, and he opens his eyes again. “I don’t know if I can ever stop being afraid, or ever stop worrying about you, or ever stop wishing for the impossible. You don’t know how many times I’ve fantasized about turning back time to do _everything_ over with you. But we’re here right now. And I’m here. No matter what happens now, I just want to be by your side for as long as possible. This time, I won’t let any damn thing get in the way of being with you.”

Kurapika continues caressing Leorio’s cheek. He senses that Leorio isn’t done speaking, so he stays silent, listening.

“Kurapika, I . . . I never stopped loving you, not for one second. I wanted to get over you, believe me. I tried over and over to rewrite the memory of your body with other bodies. I tried tricking my brain into believing that I loved other people, wanted them the same way I always wanted you. But nothing worked. You’ve ruined me for everyone else, just like I knew you would.”

“That sounds a little sad,” Kurapika says softly.

Leorio kisses Kurapika on the forehead. “It doesn’t have to be sad. I can be the happiest man in the world, as long as you take responsibility.”

“Okay, Leorio. I promise to take responsibility. I’ll treasure your feelings this time.”

Leorio dips down to kiss Kurapika on the mouth again. He can’t get over how good Kurapika tastes, and judging by the way that Kurapika rarely ever permits a split-second to pass between kisses, not even to allow himself to breathe, Kurapika obviously feels the same.

How much time goes by? Leorio doesn’t know and doesn’t care. All he wants to do is make up for the five years that he’s been deprived of the inexplicable sweetness of these lips.

Kurapika eventually rolls them over so that he’s on top. While Leorio’s clothes are already in considerable disarray due to their steamy make-out session, Kurapika strips them all away this time. As Kurapika slides down Leorio’s slacks and boxers, he bites his bottom lip when Leorio’s stiff penis bobs into view for the second time that night. 

Leorio yelps as Kurapika’s head suddenly dives between his legs and swallows his entire erection in one swift downward motion. Clouds of pleasure crowd out every other thought in Leorio’s head as Kurapika’s tongue swirls around his hardness, as Kurapika’s fingers gently pinch on the skin of his scrotum.

Leorio’s thighs tremble from the effort of holding himself back from fucking Kurapika’s heavenly mouth. Leorio is about to grab two giant fistfuls of Kurapika’s golden hair, perhaps hold onto them like reins as Kurapika takes him deeply and repeatedly into the tightness of his throat, but just then Kurapika’s head jerks upward and releases him. 

Kurapika pounces on top of Leorio’s hips. Greedy now, he glares down at Leorio’s muscular body. “Can’t wait anymore. Can’t wait for my ass to gobble up your gorgeous cock again.”

Kurapika leans forward to fetch another condom. Even as he fumbles with the rubber, he’s already sighing with impatience, already twitching his hips to let the head of Leorio’s penis grind against his entrance.

“Wait. Wait a sec, Kurapika.”

Kurapika’s mind is foggy with need, but he forces himself to stop and focus on what Leorio is saying. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to fuck me, Leorio?”

“Jeez, I can’t even conceive of a parallel universe where I won’t want to fuck you. But there’s something else . . . something I’ve always wanted to try.”

“I’ll do anything, try anything for you,” Kurapika declares. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

Leorio sits up. He fidgets for a few seconds before he speaks again. “Can you . . . put _yours_ inside me this time?”

Kurapika hesitates, staring at Leorio with an unreadable expression. “Have you ever done that before? Been on the receiving end, I mean.”

Leorio’s face takes on a pinkish tinge. “No, I haven’t. I mean, I’ve slept with other men, but I was always. . . .” His voice turns resolute. “But if it’s with you, I won’t mind being on the bottom. No, I _want_ to. I’ve been dreaming about it, even.”

“Dreaming about it, huh?”

“Um. This whole story is kind of hard to explain. Don’t laugh, okay?”

Kurapika plants a soft kiss on Leorio’s chest, then looks up encouragingly at Leorio’s face. “I promise not to laugh.”

“I masturbate while thinking about you. A lot. More than I should. Well, you’ve probably already guessed that. I’ve got it bad for you, you know that.”

Kurapika kisses Leorio’s chest again. He can’t seem to stop reverently pressing his lips against Leorio’s salty skin. “Mm. I can’t help but imagine your handsome face too, every time I touch myself.”

“Yeah, that’s not the part I’m embarrassed about,” Leorio says. “I blame the psycho clown for this. Back then, he told me something that’s been grinding my gears ever since.”

“Psycho clown. . . . Do you mean Hisoka?”

“Why, do you know any other psycho clowns . . .? No, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. The point is, Hisoka heavily implied that you were fucking him in the ass. That always pissed me off. I mean, I may have gotten to fuck you twice now — and each time was incredible, don’t get me wrong — but it still bothers me that _Hisoka,_ of all people in the world, got to feel your dick inside him, while I never had the honor.”

Kurapika smiles now. “I think I know why Hisoka was tormenting you with stories about bottoming for me. He couldn’t resist teasing me when he made a certain juicy discovery, but I wouldn’t have guessed that he’d been teasing you too.”

“A juicy discovery? What discovery?”

“He found out that I liked to imagine myself thrusting inside you, Leorio.”

“Oh.” Leorio’s blush deepens. “Wow.”

“Hisoka already knew that I had this mortifying habit of fantasizing about a very precious, very _platonic_ friend whenever I played with myself, but something about my fantasies of topping you really tickled him. To think that all this time, you’ve been dreaming about the reverse. . . .”

“Yeah, Hisoka kept telling me to train my ass because you were coming for me too. He was being super gross about it, and I _hated_ him for it, but . . . once he forced that mental image into my brain, I became _obsessed_ with it. Even now, nearly every time I masturbate, I. . . .” By this point, Leorio’s face has flushed red until the tips of his ears. “I, um, I like to finger myself. While picturing you on top of me, pounding into me.”

In the next second, Kurapika has pinned Leorio down on the bed. Leorio gasps as his back flumps over the mattress.

Kurapika looks greedy again. “Like this? You picture me on top of you like this, Leorio?”

Leorio can only nod.

Kurapika’s right hand wanders downward. His middle finger slips between Leorio’s buttocks and prods the puckered ring of muscle. “You want to feel my fingers inside you?”

More nodding from Leorio. Eager now. “Your fingers. Then your dick.”

Kurapika closes his eyes and takes deep breaths to calm himself. When he opens his eyes again, his expression is mild. “We’ll work up to that, slowly. We’ll have to be patient, okay? I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to feel good enough that you’ll ask me for a second round, next time.”

“There’s no way I won’t ask you for a second round. I want to have sex with you every day, Kurapika. _Every single day._ I’m serious.”

Kurapika chuckles. “That can definitely be arranged. If you were looking for a partner who can fuck you and be fucked by you _every single day_ — multiple times per day, even — then you’ve hit the jackpot with me. Believe me.”

Kurapika turns away to open the bedside drawer. This time, Leorio leans in to check out the drawer’s contents. Inside, there are several sex toys and boxes upon boxes of condoms. 

“Quite the collection you have here,” Leorio says conversationally, picking up a silicone paddle.

“Most of these toys are dusty by now. I’ll have to wash them thoroughly if you want to play with me next time. This is the only one I use regularly.”

Kurapika holds up a dildo. Leorio notes that it’s significantly smaller than his own penis, which may explain why Kurapika was so deliciously tight when Leorio entered him earlier.

Cheered by this, Leorio grins and reaches for the dildo. “Man, how many times has this thing been inside your ass? This dildo is what my dick aspires to be. It’s living my dream. Can I keep this for myself? I want to hug it while I sleep. . . .”

Kurapika bursts out laughing and yanks the dildo away. He stuffs it back into the drawer, then unearths a bottle of lubricant instead. “This is all we need for tonight. We can get kinky some other time, okay?”

As Kurapika closes the drawer, Leorio scrambles back into position and spreads his legs wide.

Kurapika opens the bottle and squeezes a generous dollop onto his palm. He commences applying the lube to Leorio’s ass, squirting another dollop for every new finger he inserts. He sucks the tip of Leorio’s cock as he continues preparing him, but Leorio doesn’t seem to require this extra stimulation — his asshole stretches pliantly around Kurapika’s fingers, evidently well-trained for digital penetration.

Noisy as ever in bed, Leorio has been moaning shamelessly throughout this entire operation. Kurapika hums approvingly around a mouthful of precum. 

Kurapika withdraws his lips and smiles. “You have such a wonderfully docile hole, Leorio. I can tell as early as now that it’s going to be paradise inside you.”

Leorio’s hips are wriggling in an attempt to shove Kurapika’s fingers even deeper into him. “Kurapika, I want you. I want all of you.”

“Give me one more minute. I need to stretch you out a little more.”

But Leorio grasps Kurapika’s wrist to make him stop. “No. Your cock. Now.”

Relenting, Kurapika pulls out his fingers, one by one. As Kurapika straightens up to put on a condom, Leorio’s eyes survey the size of Kurapika’s fully erect penis. Leorio swallows, audibly.

Kurapika is careful not to apply unnecessary pressure to his boner as he lubes himself up. In truth, his dick has been throbbing in agonizing anticipation of feeling his love yielding to him down there, but he keeps his tone measured as he asks, “Are you ready to take this all in, Leorio? If you’re having second thoughts, we can continue this another time, if you want?”

In response, Leorio spreads his legs even wider and yanks Kurapika down over his over body. This, of course, is invitation enough.

Resisting every animalistic urge to slam inside, Kurapika enters Leorio as gradually as humanly possible. He dribbles additional blobs of lube every time Leorio grunts in discomfort or grips Kurapika’s shoulders to steel himself.

In this slow and steady manner, their hips snap together with a final push forward, and Kurapika is totally embedded in Leorio’s immense warmth. The overwhelmed expression on Leorio’s face is so wildly sexy to Kurapika that it takes all his willpower to prevent himself from pistoning his hips like a fiend.

“Big.” Leorio’s eyes are wide, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s feeling. “Kurapika, you’re so fucking big.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want it any other way. I love my little big boyfriend.”

They both freeze as these words hit the air between them.

Leorio whacks his palm against his own face. “Urgh. I was going to ask you later, officially. My big mouth betrayed me.”

Kurapika peels off Leorio’s hand from his reddening face. “In my opinion, your big mouth has just identified the most effective strategy to gain a positive response to that specific question. Leorio, I can’t imagine that anyone would ever say no to you while buried to the hilt inside you. You’re phenomenal, and I’m the luckiest man in the world.” Tenderly, Kurapika presses Leorio’s hand to his lips. “I love you. I love my big, big boyfriend.”

Kurapika transfers the hand that he’s just kissed to Leorio’s cock. “Will you stroke yourself for me? That may help to alleviate any initial soreness.”

As Leorio jacks himself off, Kurapika begins to move his hips slowly, continuously gauging Leorio’s level of comfort with boundless self-restraint.

Kurapika consistently increases his speed, until at a certain point, Leorio quits the pretense of playing with his own dick and instead gives in to the bliss of being fucked just like this — lovingly, patiently, attentively. Digging his fingers into Kurapika’s back, Leorio jerks upward to meet Kurapika’s downward movements.

Spurred on by this, Kurapika starts thrusting faster now.

“More,” Leorio begs, panting. “More, Kurapika.”

Kurapika readjusts his position to deliberately brush against Leorio’s prostate. With every push, Kurapika amplifies the pressure until Leorio is whining beneath him.

“You like it there, Leorio? You like it when I hit that spot?”

Leorio nods energetically. He’s even drooling a bit.

“Let’s see how hard I can hit it, hmm?” With this, Kurapika commences smacking repeatedly against Leorio’s sweet spot.

Leorio howls and clenches tightly around Kurapika’s cock. His eyes are rolling back, in a delirious condition. “Fuck! Fuck, yes! Fucking me _so good,_ Kurapika!”

Pleased by this praise, Kurapika makes a mission of meticulously utilizing every passage of every page of his mental textbook of techniques, anything to ensure that his lover’s body remains in a constant state of frenzy.

Leorio is thoroughly swept up in this feeling, this intensity as the man he loves pries him open, again and again. Kurapika is inside him and all around him at once; his essence staining him with wondrous colors.

Just as Leorio is beginning to believe that this must be it — this must be the peak of how good a person can possibly feel — Kurapika slows down and buries deep inside him. He grinds around the perimeter of Leorio’s prostate gland with firm, circular motions.

Leorio’s back arches and, without warning, his dick releases a lengthy stream of cum over his own chest. Kurapika continues mashing against Leorio’s prostate as he comes, and the ejaculation keeps going past the point that Leorio ever imagined possible.

In the wake of this mind-blowing orgasm, Leorio closes his eyes and lets out a debauched sigh.

“You came a lot for me, didn’t you?” Kurapika says, affectionate. “So sweet. The best boyfriend ever.”

“Mmph. Want to kiss you, Kurapika.”

Kurapika is too short to properly reach Leorio’s lips from his current position, so he gently pulls out to crawl forward and give Leorio the kisses he’s craving. Embracing Kurapika, Leorio indulges for several long moments in the addictive softness of Kurapika’s lips. 

Eventually, the hardness poking against Leorio’s abdomen jolts him out from his post-orgasmic daze. “Ah! Sorry! You can get back to fucking me now.”

“No hurries, Leorio. I said I’d give you everything you want, and that’s what I intend to do.”

Leorio pauses to consider something. “Kurapika, you haven’t had sex in eleven months, right? As for me, I’ve also gotten tested since the last time. So. . . .”

Leorio eases off Kurapika’s condom. Even though Leorio does this as gently as he can, Kurapika groans desperately against Leorio’s neck. That’s when Leorio realizes how truly close he must be to completion.

“Will you come inside me?” Leorio asks. “That’s all I want from you now.”

Kurapika’s eyes light up in excitement. “Of course. I’d be honored.”

Kurapika wastes no time in settling back between Leorio’s legs. Leorio inhales sharply as Kurapika plunges inside him again. Kurapika’s unprotected cock feels so hot, so solid, so good as it slides in and out of Leorio’s ass, and with this impossibly intense friction — skin against skin — Leorio feels his own penis stirring with rekindled interest.

But nothing can compare to the way Leorio feels when he looks down and sees the way he’s making Kurapika feel. 

With his eyes shut, Kurapika is gripping Leorio’s waist for purchase as he fucks into him again and again, babbling nothing except _yes, yes, yes._ Captivated by the sight of the usually composed and eloquent Kurapika coming unraveled for him, Leorio wraps his calves around Kurapika’s back to draw him in even deeper.

Kurapika opens his eyes and speaks to Leorio now, punctuating his words and phrases with forceful thrusts. “Mine. Every part of you. All mine. You can’t get away. I won’t let go.”

Leorio’s expression softens. “That’s right, Kurapika. I’m all yours.”

For so long — since he was seventeen, really — Kurapika has denied these feelings for Leorio. He believed himself unworthy of ever deserving someone as pure as his beloved friend. All that helpless love he felt, all that burning desire for Leorio’s skin and voice and warmth and smile — he drowned it all out in a constant refrain of guilt and shame. 

But with every thrust, Kurapika is dismantling more of these defenses. All those years of building walls to hide behind, they mean nothing in the face of something this inevitable. 

Kurapika rests his hand over Leorio’s heart. He feels it pounding for him and only him. Yes, Kurapika can complete his home with this. He can claim Leorio for himself. He can claim this life of happiness and love. He deserves this — he’s certain of it now. He’s good enough.

The pressure is building to a crescendo, the pleasure approaching in waves that rise to ever newer heights. Kurapika’s movements are becoming uneven, his pace more and more out of sync. Any time now.

“Nghh. Leorio. Love. I’m coming. Fuck. Gonna come.”

Just as Kurapika rams downward again, Leorio propels his hips upward to meet him. This rocking impact, as Kurapika bottoms out inside Leorio, finally drives Kurapika over the edge. Kurapika throws back his head and screams as his climax hits. He gushes freely — ceaselessly, it seems — inside Leorio. 

Leorio clutches the sheets and groans as Kurapika fills him up with viscous warmth. When this explosive release abates, they both collapse into a breathless heap of boneless limbs.

After a few minutes of soporific silence, Leorio ventures to speak. “Kurapika?”

Kurapika lifts his sticky cheek from Leorio’s cum-riddled chest. “Hmm?”

“I love cuddling with you like this, really. But can you at least pull out? It feels . . . strangely full down there.”

“Ah, forgive me, Leorio. I should have been more considerate.” Kurapika props himself up on his palms and slowly retracts his flaccid penis. 

Leorio sits up, and they both watch, entranced, as glob after glob of semen comes leaking out of Leorio’s asshole.

“Do you want to take a shower together?” Kurapika offers.

The question has barely left Kurapika’s lips when Leorio heroically sweeps him up in his arms to cart him off into the bathroom. Leorio has, however, severely misjudged the soreness in his backside. As Leorio’s body buckles, they both crash down spectacularly over the floor. 

Aghast at his own clumsiness, Leorio crawls forward on his elbows and knees to check on Kurapika, who’s rolled over close to the bathroom door. 

Kurapika may be lying naked on his back, stinking of spunk and undignified to the utmost degree, but he’s only laughing in sheer delight. “God, Leorio. How did I ever survive for five years without you — messing me up, throwing me around like this?”

Relieved, Leorio smooches Kurapika’s shoulder. “From now on, you never have to worry about such things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the full and final version of the playlist. Parts one, two, and three of the playlist may be found in the notes of Chapters 26, 30, and 35. 
> 
> _Kurapika_  
>  1\. [Overthinking IT — WILLOW](https://youtu.be/lkbm-QUo4rM)  
> 2\. [Rainy Day Loop (Parent's House Remix) — SALES](https://youtu.be/EkdYoxMVmYo)  
> 3\. [Underline the Black — Metric](https://youtu.be/U1ej6O9ZPEE)
> 
>  _Leorio, for Kurapika_  
>  4\. [Flames — BOY](https://youtu.be/pwmTZsLtsTU)  
> 5\. [Sugar — Sufjan Stevens](https://youtu.be/56bU7xAU1tM)  
> 6\. [K. — Cigarettes After Sex](https://youtu.be/L4sbDxR22z4)  
> 7\. [Time After Time — Tegan and Sara (Cyndi Lauper Cover)](https://youtu.be/N7S6NUYJiAI)
> 
>  _Kurapika, for Leorio_  
>  8\. [A Pearl — Mitski](https://youtu.be/p8FDl_tMs4Y)  
> 9\. [Paralysed — Nilüfer Yanya](https://youtu.be/UJkVQZK4SVo)  
> 10\. [Total Zombie — Day Wave](https://soundcloud.com/day-wave/day-wave-total-zombie)  
> 11\. [Find Yourself — Great Good Fine Ok, Before You Exit](https://youtu.be/VxbPqcR4LYM)  
> 12\. [Crime of Passion — Tim Atlas](https://youtu.be/zm4DH8n1-AQ)  
> 13\. [Like Letter — BP Valenzuela](https://youtu.be/GYjxyi4-7QY)  
> 14\. [Baby I'm Dyin' — LOLAWOLF](https://youtu.be/qjL95xrJJCA)  
> 15\. [Evening Ceremony — Active Child](https://youtu.be/o3xmMjoUweo)  
> 16\. [Begin — Shallou feat. Wales](https://youtu.be/b55P1KaiSF0)  
> 17\. [begin again — Purity Ring](https://youtu.be/IIPMzeNWAtk)
> 
>  _Leopika_  
>  18\. [Pluie — Snail's House](https://youtu.be/7HhAW9RRrLc)
> 
>  _Hisopika_  
>  19\. [Devils Angel — Unloved](https://youtu.be/oIox8F0049o)  
> 20\. [Where Evil Grows — The Poppy Family feat. Terry Jacks, Susan Jacks](https://youtu.be/mgkzFt8Q_k4)  
> 21\. [Creatures of Habit — The Kooks](https://youtu.be/mfLNUTIoNdw)  
> 22\. [P0WDER — Now, Now](https://youtu.be/5XtiuSOWnyQ)  
> 23\. [One Night Stand — Banoffee](https://youtu.be/OPvHhZRmuEE)  
> 24\. [1969dime — Monica Riskey](https://youtu.be/TfxWnW6VTxw)  
> 25\. [Screwed — Janelle Monáe feat. Zoë Kravitz](https://youtu.be/BLPV55zXwJM)  
> 26\. [Atypical — BONNIE X CLYDE](https://youtu.be/TYMS8nne9Rs)  
> 27\. [Copper Kiss — Sälen](https://youtu.be/KFBW1n-PAkI)  
> 28\. [U Make Me Sick — HOLYCHILD](https://youtu.be/FEE0Yb3FD_w)  
> 29\. [Poison — Girl Friend](https://open.spotify.com/track/7JKGMlRO9egsTPss4iSYJy?si=1UpoqSPYQeWKbYCy8cDWwA)  
> 30\. [When You're Near Me I Have Difficulty — XTC](https://open.spotify.com/album/0cD3HOqQkFiP9wKE4ytJjg?highlight=spotify:track:2lgDSzjsx1yKagClBqJthP)  
> 31\. [Front — Vex Ruffin](https://youtu.be/kVxreWaT7nw)  
> 32\. [I Caught Myself — Paramore](https://youtu.be/GLNni7IL268)  
> 33\. [Break for Lovers — Men I Trust feat. Helena Deland](https://youtu.be/wFuTmVTZc5U)
> 
> You can also listen to the full playlist on Spotify: [echoes of home [leohisopika mix]](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/77w2QpgJuqixTv7Wih7BMn?si=jxNlJRv6S0K9Pqen9NhjDA)


	45. Moon colors, lunar phases

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika).
> 
> RATING: Mature.
> 
> SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the _Hunter x Hunter_ manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you’ve caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don’t care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.
> 
> Special thanks to Caasi for answering my therapy-related questions and for just generally being my favorite person that I've met in the year of our Lord 2020.

The next morning, Kurapika brews coffee for the both of them. When Leorio inquires if he can help with anything, Kurapika asks him to pick up the mail outside.

Leorio heads out to fetch the mail. There are a few bills, a postcard from Basho and Bill that features a jagged mountain biking trail, and a fat letter signed with a name that makes Leorio gape in shock.

Back inside the house again, Leorio brings up the letter right off the bat.

Kurapika doesn’t even glance up from the boiling liquid in the pot. “Yes, I’ve been expecting that to come any day now.” Leorio is still staring askance at him, so Kurapika hastens to add, “Hisoka and I, we’ve stayed in touch since the war ended.”

Leorio pauses to manage the sudden turbulence of his thoughts. What should he even say? He doesn’t want to sound controlling or possessive when Kurapika only recently agreed to be in a relationship with him, literally just the night before. But Leorio hates to imagine someone so dangerous still associating with Kurapika, _especially_ if that person happens to be Kurapika’s only ex-boyfriend. . . .

When Kurapika notices that Leorio has gone quiet, he abandons the coffee to embrace Leorio. “If it bothers you, I’ll stop writing him back. Just say the word, and I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“Of course. Your peace of mind is my priority. I want you to feel secure with me, Leorio.”

Touched by these words, Leorio pats Kurapika’s hair, which is still somewhat damp from their shared bath earlier. Kurapika nuzzles against Leorio’s chest, sighing in satisfaction as Leorio continues petting his head.

Leorio looks down at Hisoka’s letter in his other hand. He turns it over, curious now. “What does Hisoka even write to you about?”

“You can read it, if you want.”

“Really?”

“You can read any of his letters to me,” Kurapika assures him. “They might not be what you’re expecting.”

Kurapika steps backward so that Leorio can open the bulky envelope. A shriveled _something_ tumbles out between them.

Leorio wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Yuck! What the hell is that?”

Kurapika kneels to examine the fallen object. It’s some sort of . . . oversized insect claw? “Hmm. Did this come with a picture?”

Leorio takes out the letter from the envelope. Tucked inside the folded sheets of paper is a photograph of Hisoka hamming it up for the camera. A dead bug about the size of his forearm dangles from his sharp fingernails.

“Guess that answers your question,” Kurapika says once Leorio shows him the photograph. “It looks like a regional variant of the notorious Chimera Ant, doesn’t it?”

This isn’t how Leorio envisioned spending their first morning together as a couple, but he supposes that he can withstand just about anything if Kurapika is spooning him in bed the entire time, progressively peeling off items of clothing to trail his velvet touch over Leorio’s skin.

As Kurapika’s hands wander, Leorio lounges over the pillows and goes through the shoebox of Hisoka’s letters. There are photographs here too, as well as the occasional gruesome knickknack.

Hisoka’s missives are all rambling accounts of monster-hunting and tree-scaling adventures, where he will often forget to tell the endings of prior stories in order to embark on newer tales, only to pick up the abandoned plot threads in later letters, presumably in response to Kurapika’s reminders. As for the accompanying photographs, they depict the carnivorous wildness of the flora and fauna of the Dark Continent — all in differing states of vitality after Hisoka has finished toying with them.

“I hate to admit this,” Leorio says, just as Kurapika is tugging down his boxers, “but setting aside the gag-inducing photos of decapitated or dismembered beasts, Hisoka’s stories are actually weirdly interesting.”

“Aren’t they? I’ve been attempting to convince him to allow me to organize and compile his letters into a published volume or two. With substantial edits in the interests of clarity and chronology, his zoological and botanical research is doubtlessly scientifically valuable.”

“If you need to interview him or something down the line, just remember to take me along with you.”

“Don’t tell me you actually miss Hisoka?” Kurapika teases.

Leorio snorts loudly. “That damn clown has gloated in front of me enough. I still need to return the favor. I’ll give him something to be jealous about.”

Positioned between Leorio’s legs now, Kurapika only smiles and pushes back his blond hair with his hand. He ducks down, laying breathy kisses over Leorio’s inner thighs.

Leorio tosses Hisoka’s letter aside, shoves the shoebox off the edge of the mattress.

Half a year passes. Leorio, living up to his designation as Disease Hunter, has been religiously researching the adverse effects of Nen contracts and conditions, with a particular emphasis on the physiological and pathological impacts on the Nen users executing and adopting such.

A few years ago, Leorio nearly lost his friend Gon to a Nen contract gone terribly wrong. That harrowing experience — watching the most vibrant person he’s ever known withering beyond recognition over his hospital bed — is one Leorio won’t soon forget. Certainly, Gon won’t be the last Nen user to push beyond his body’s limitations in this manner. For the sake of those who may, in the future, be similarly tempted by a bloody mission for revenge, or by a quest for victory no matter the cost, Leorio is determined to expose the hidden malignance behind these contracts and conditions.

But of course, beyond all that, Leorio is hunting for the elusive cure that may perhaps save the only person he’s ever loved.

Kurapika’s body and lifespan may already be permanently, irreversibly damaged by his abuse of Emperor Time in the past. Leorio knows this. According to Kurapika’s calculations — too convoluted with contingencies for Leorio to completely comprehend — Kurapika will die within the next three to five years, in the absolute worst-case scenario.

No matter how much it pains Leorio to picture this tragic ending unfolding, he just has to accept the probability. He has to risk it. He’s ready to risk everything just to be by Kurapika’s side.

With utmost caution, and with a known remedy or reversal agent always at hand, Leorio has been testing out a variety of therapeutic treatments and healing techniques on Kurapika. He then monitors and records Kurapika’s health metrics — temperature, blood pressure, and heart rate, among others — every night before they go to bed together.

For his part, Kurapika actually seems to savor the ritualistic nature of these checkups with his personal physician, which are always conducted in the privacy of their home. Sometimes, Kurapika just sits back and closes his eyes, allowing Leorio to handle his body and prod him with medical instruments as he pleases.

For an admittedly unprofessional reason, Leorio has taken to leaving the neurological aspect of his physical examination for last. Kurapika will occasionally incorporate this portion of the checkup into their foreplay — once Leorio taps Kurapika’s knee with the reflex hammer, Kurapika will kick obediently, then not-so-obediently rub Leorio’s crotch with his foot.

The first few times this happened, Leorio waggled a disapproving finger at Kurapika, who only regarded Leorio’s furiously blushing face with amusement. But once Leorio clued in to a surprising fact — namely, that the aggressive satiation of Kurapika’s sex drive is one of the _only_ things that can consistently improve his health metrics across the board — Leorio chalked it up to an occupational hazard and permitted Kurapika to carry on. 

For the both of them, this doctor-patient dynamic is a guilty pleasure, one of their favorite games to play in bed.

This is all well and good, but for the past few weeks, Kurapika has been coming home later and later, seemingly wrapped up in the work of further reinforcing Nostrade’s rising reputation among respectable business circles. These late arrivals keep pushing back their regular checkups deeper into the night, until one day, Kurapika gets home well past dawn. 

Despite the zombie-like look in Kurapika’s eyes, he brushes off Leorio’s concerns and insists on driving Leorio to work the same way he does every morning. He even sends Leorio off with one of his usual goodbye kisses — long and indulgent — which are allegedly meant to energize Leorio as he zips around the hectic halls of the hospital.

By this point of their relationship, Leorio has learned to respect Kurapika’s need to process things at his own pace — trusting Kurapika to open up to him at the right time and place — but the recent repercussions of Kurapika’s late nights on their medical routine forces Leorio to put his foot down this time. Leorio decides to broach the subject that very night.

For the first time in weeks, instead of sending Linssen in his place, Kurapika himself shows up to fetch Leorio from the hospital after his shift. Melody is in the car as well, pleasantly conversing with Kurapika from the backseat.

When they reach Melody’s house, she leans close to the driver’s seat and whispers something to Kurapika. She then exchanges a meaningful look with Kurapika, via the rearview mirror, before waving to Leorio and alighting from the car.

Back home, Leorio hits the shower, first things first. He lets the gushing water cool his head before he goes to look for Kurapika again, ready to resolve things now. Leorio can’t permit this peculiar new distance between them to widen any further.

Leorio finds Kurapika in the living room, curled up with his law books in preparation for his exams next month. Leorio sits on the other end of the couch and doesn’t mince his words now. “Kurapika, we need to talk.”

Kurapika closes his black book of criminal code provisions. “Yes. Let’s talk.”

“What’s been going on with you lately? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Well . . . I’ve been planning to take a trip this weekend. Will you be available to accompany me?”

Leorio’s eyes widen. A weekend trip? As busy as they both are, they’ve never taken a trip alone together before. Even though Leorio still doesn’t know what to make of Kurapika’s recent behavior, there’s no way he can deny this opportunity. “Of course I’m coming along! I’ll have to trade shifts with someone, but I can make it happen, easy.”

“I’m glad. I was hoping you could come, Leorio.”

“Wherever you want to go, Kurapika, I’m there. So where are we going?”

Kurapika’s voice turns softer now, soft enough that Leorio needs to move closer to decipher what he’s saying. “We’re going to the place where I buried my clan. For their death anniversary, I want to pay my respects . . . and I want to introduce you to all of them.”

“Oh.” Leorio isn’t sure about what expression to show, but when in doubt, it’s usually a good idea to hold his boyfriend, to keep him in the closest possible proximity. Leorio extracts Kurapika from his fort of law books and transfers him to his own lap. “I can’t wait to meet them all. Their death anniversary — is it this Saturday? Or this Sunday?”

Kurapika presses his face against Leorio’s neck. His voice comes out muffled. “Yesterday.”

An uncomfortable silence follows.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Leorio asks eventually. “Is this why you worked through the night yesterday, then came home at dawn?”

Kurapika doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t even seem to be breathing. His body is motionless against Leorio’s chest, so Leorio commences stroking his back, trying to get him to relax.

“Kurapika? Kurapika, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Swathed in Leorio’s warmth like this, the icy rigidity of Kurapika’s body slowly melts, until Leorio feels tears spilling freely over his collarbone. Kurapika is shuddering now, allowing himself to break down in the safety of Leorio’s arms. Leorio continues caressing Kurapika’s back, continues whispering assurances.

It’s a while before Kurapika calms down enough to form words. “I’m sorry, Leorio. Regardless of how long ago I lost them, this time of the year never gets any easier. I wanted to tell you — I knew I should explain why I was being so strange — but I didn’t know where to start. Yesterday, I buried myself in work the same way I always do, but of course yesterday was a thousand times worse than every other day of the year. Before I knew it, it was four in the morning. Everyone else was gone from the office. I think . . . I think I was just afraid I’d burst into tears in front of you and drive you away with my neediness. But here I am anyway, sobbing all over you.”

Leorio takes Kurapika’s face between his palms and stares deeply into those damp brown eyes. “Hey. You can never _ever_ drive me away. You’re stuck with me now. I’m like a leech, sucking on your skin so hard that you can’t shake me off. You got that?”

Kurapika gives him a shaky smile. “Got it. Thank you for bearing with me.”

“You don’t have to thank me. As your boyfriend, it’s my job to hold your hand through all the good stuff and bad stuff. Especially the bad stuff.”

Kurapika bumps their foreheads together, gently. “You want to know something, Leorio? Something I can’t stop thinking about? They would have loved you, I’m sure. My mother, my father. I can picture the scene perfectly — my parents begging me to ask you for your hand in marriage, anything to lock down this big-city doctor and keep him as a part of our family forever. You would be my parents’ favorite son, and I wouldn’t even care. You’re my favorite person too, after all.”

“Ah, come on,” Leorio says, shy now.

“I’m serious, Leorio. Do you truly understand how much you mean to me? After I’d lost everything, I believed that home was a place I could only visit in my dreams. I thought I’d have to die to be with my family again. But here you are now.”

In no time at all, Leorio is the one bawling like a baby, while Kurapika is kissing away his tears like he always does.

At the forest burial site of the Kurta clan, Kurapika points out each individual tombstone — every inscription etched in a child’s clumsy but earnest scrawl — and tells Leorio a little bit about the clan member sleeping six feet beneath. There are over a hundred and twenty graves here.

“You may have noticed that, in some places, the soil has been more recently disturbed,” Kurapika says. “That’s because I had to come back numerous times in order to return the new heads I’d found to their proper owners. As for the scarlet eyes, it was impossible to tell them apart, so I buried them all together in a single location.”

Leorio can’t figure out how to respond to this information, but as long as he’s holding Kurapika’s hand, he knows that Kurapika understands that he’s just here. Here to listen. Here to help him through this.

When they reach the last grave, Kurapika crouches down and rests his palm over the tombstone. “Leorio, I’d like you to meet Pairo.”

“Pairo,” Leorio echoes. He recognizes those two syllables from the myriad times that Kurapika has said them in his sleep, although he’s done it less and less often lately. It somehow never occurred to Leorio that Pairo was a name.

“Pairo was my childhood friend and first love.”

Leorio crouches down beside Kurapika. “I’ll bet that Pairo was a wonderful person.”

“He was indeed. Pairo was one of the bravest, most resilient people I’ve ever known. You’d be hard-pressed to find a more loyal and reliable companion. As young as he was, he didn’t hesitate to endanger himself to save my life. When I left the clan, I was determined to search for a doctor who could treat the injuries that Pairo incurred just to save me.” Kurapika glances over at Leorio now. “I have to wonder, sometimes. Perhaps, even after I lost Pairo and everyone else, I was always keeping an eye out for a doctor like that. The type of doctor who would move heaven and earth just to save someone, even if they had nothing to gain from it.”

Leorio shuffles sideward to wrap his arm around Kurapika’s shoulders. “Tell me more about Pairo.”

“Pairo . . . he dreamed of adventure, the same way I did. We always planned to explore the world together, but in the end, I went ahead. Pairo understood. He always wished for the best for me. To Pairo, it wouldn’t matter how many times I’ve fallen, or failed, or fucked up. The only thing he’s ever wanted for me is a life where I can say, decisively, that I’ve had fun at the end of the day.”

Leorio squeezes Kurapika’s shoulder. “Pairo must be proud of you, then.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I _know_ so, with every bone in my body,” Leorio declares. “You’ve turned your life around, Kurapika. Okay, maybe not every day is fun and games, but every day you try a little harder to let go of the things that are holding you back. I’m always beside you, so I’ve seen all your efforts — and all their results — firsthand.” 

Leorio stares down and presses his free hand over Pairo’s tombstone now. “Pairo! I promise to try my best to make Kurapika’s life as fun as possible! I’ll take him to the beach so we can swim together! I’ll take him to the park with picnic baskets I’ve prepared! I’ll adopt a kitten that can keep him company when I have to go away for medical conferences! Kurapika and I will take more weekend trips together, just like this one! We’ll ride airships, we’ll go on adventures! I’ll do whatever it takes, so please rest easy and entrust Kurapika to me from now on!”

Noticing that Kurapika’s shoulders are shaking somewhat, Leorio checks his face, concerned that he’s started crying.

But Kurapika isn’t in tears at all. Instead, he’s trying to smother his laughter, and looking at Leorio with so much love that it steals away the breath from Leorio’s chest.

“Pfft. When I’m with you, Leorio, I probably have _too much_ fun.”

On the drive back from the airport, Leorio tells Kurapika about Pietro. It’s been so long since he’s really spoken to anyone about his dear friend. Together, he and Pietro were widely dubbed the biggest brats of the neighborhood, always kicking a ball around and “accidentally” breaking the windows of their stingiest neighbors. Cosmic justice, they’d say to each other, bumping fists upon hearing the welcome shatter of glass.

“Pietro was so damn bullheaded that he gave even _me_ a run for my money!” Leorio is saying now. “In fact, you remind me of him sometimes, the way you stubbornly resist my tender loving care whenever you’re sick!”

Kurapika’s right hand, which has been stroking Leorio’s thigh as his left hand maneuvers the steering wheel, shifts forward to pinch Leorio’s knee in mock indignation. “Hey, I don’t give you a hard time, not anymore. You’re never going to let me live down my former bad behavior, are you?”

Leorio scoffs. “No matter how many patients I’ve handled, I’ll always reserve that top spot for you. The worst patient in the world, by far.”

“Joke’s on you then, Dr. Leorio. How dare you fall in love with the world’s worst patient.”

Leorio lifts Kurapika’s hand from his own knee to bestow a sloppy smooch on it. “I’d do it again. Over and over and over again.”

Somehow, Leorio’s every story about Pietro devolves into yet another story about Pietro. Leorio now fully understands how, just like Hisoka, he can rattle off a billion stories to Kurapika and never get bored. Kurapika just listens attentively, prompting Leorio with thoughtful questions whenever he pauses to draw breath.

Leorio blabbers so much that he ends up conking out midway through a story.

Hours later, Leorio wakes up to a faint warmth over his chest. Kurapika is leaning over to extricate the seatbelt from where it’s gotten tangled around Leorio’s arm.

Seeing that Leorio has awoken, Kurapika kisses him on the forehead. “We’re home, love.”

Kurapika is just about to draw away when Leorio yanks him by the waist, swiftly repositioning Kurapika over his lap.

Kurapika’s arms rope around Leorio’s neck. For the space of a second, brown eyes stare into brown eyes, then their mouths connect, mutually hungry for each other’s taste. They make out until Leorio’s lap is squirming underneath Kurapika’s slight weight, stimulated and yearning for skin-to-skin contact.

“Carry me to bed?” Kurapika mutters into Leorio’s ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps over Leorio’s nape.

Leorio lays his hand protectively over Kurapika’s head as he clambers out of the car. With Kurapika clinging firmly to his tall frame, Leorio shuts the car door behind them. He leaves their luggage in the trunk. He’ll unpack tomorrow. For now, more urgent business requires his attention.

As Leorio navigates through doors and mounts stairs, he’s groaning impatiently all the way. Kurapika keeps nibbling on his neck and ears, snarling up the knot of desire in Leorio’s groin more and more tightly.

Once Leorio finally lays Kurapika over their bed, he’s just about ready to rip off his boyfriend’s clothes with his teeth. He swoops down to kiss Kurapika fiercely on the lips, but the kiss receives no response whatsoever.

Leorio pulls away and sees that Kurapika has, quite suddenly, fallen asleep. And it’s no wonder, really. Kurapika drove through the night instead of rousing Leorio and letting him take over at the halfway point.

Leorio tuts as he spreads a blanket over Kurapika. “In many ways, you’ve changed, but in some ways, you’ll always stay the same, won’t you?”

Leorio strips down to his boxers before getting under the blanket with his boyfriend. Even deep in slumber, Kurapika instinctively snuggles up against Leorio.

As Kurapika breathes deeply against Leorio’s chest, Leorio begins speaking softly. “Kurapika? When you wake up, I’ll ask you to meet my family next, okay? I’ve already sent my parents dozens of emails about you. The fact that I managed to land someone as beautiful and special as you — of course I couldn’t help but brag to them nonstop. They’re already primed to love everything about you. When we visit, they’re going to spoil you with all the attention and affection you deserve.”

In response, Kurapika mumbles a string of unfamiliar words. Leorio smiles as he catches his own name at the tail end of Kurapika’s somniloquy.

“I love you, Kurapika. Every minute I’ve spent by your side, whether back on the Black Whale or here in our home, means more to me than you will ever know.”

Kurapika sleep-talks some more in his native tongue, and Leorio understands what he’s saying this time. This Kurta phrase is one of the several forgotten shards of language that Kurapika has recently been teaching Leorio. The phrase conveys a romantic regard, but of a unique flavor that can never be translated with 100% accuracy. Roughly stated in their common language, it goes something like this: _Just as the moon is a part of the sky — no matter the color, no matter the phase — you too are a part of me._

“Likewise, Kurapika,” Leorio murmurs.

Holding Kurapika close to his heart, Leorio shuts his eyes and drifts to sleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've stuck by this nightmarish story until the very last chapter, I commend you for your patience. I'm sincerely thankful to everyone who's read this, and especially to everyone who's taken the time to share their thoughts.
> 
> If you happen to be curious about my next writing project, so am I. I may [rant on Twitter](https://twitter.com/ilyilaice) about my scattered ideas for my next fic, who knows. I'm about 60% set on writing about a certain HxH pairing, which shall remain a secret for the time being. I'm considering doing an interactive fanfic, which means that at the end of certain chapters, the readers will encounter a choice. The interactive element can go either of two ways:
> 
> (1) Future chapters are dictated by the majority vote of the readers based on the comments.  
> (2) Each choice leads to a different chapter, which means that the story will have branching paths.
> 
> That's all for now. Stay safe. Stay soft and golden.


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